


Always Forwards, Always Fire, Always Forever

by seizethejongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Death, Explicit Language, M/M, Psychological Horror, Violence, disturbing imagery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 21:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 102,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethejongdae/pseuds/seizethejongdae
Summary: Jongdae is happy just like every single person in his society. But Sehun makes Jongdae the happiest, far happier than those pills he distributes make him. All until Sehun starts asking questions about missing people he shouldn't have and couldn't have asked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the prompter for a wonderful prompt and to the mods for all their hard work. And for all her support, help, and love, this one's for M who makes me the luckiest. The happiest.

It was 7:00 when Jongdae woke up.

Yawning, he stretched before silencing the morning alarm on his watch as the sun lightly streamed through the curtains. It was a beautiful day.

Taking another moment, Jongdae blearily rubbed his eyes before letting his hand fall over his watch again, absent-mindedly feeling the leather, lightly wrinkled from years of use. He had received the watch from his pair many years ago, but not too many years that he couldn’t remember the exact moment he put it on for the first time. Everyone had a pair. Some pairs were only best friends, and others were romantically connected. Jongdae always said he was lucky because he found a best friend, a lover, and everything in between in his own pair.

Sehun.

Sehun who still slept beside him.

Sehun whose dark hair was so endearingly ruffled from his sleep.

Sehun who Jongdae loved and who made him so happy.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said in a hushed voice, reaching to gently shake Sehun awake, “It’s time to wake up.”

At first, there was no movement, no indication from Sehun that he had heard Jongdae, as he continued to lie in bed, the blankets slowly rising and falling to the movement of his breathing. But after a few more moments of Jongdae’s persistent efforts, Sehun finally stirred, though completely rolled onto his stomach.

“Jongdae,” Sehun whispered, “I need five more minutes.”

“You know you can’t,” Jongdae tried again, leaning over to press his body on top of Sehun’s back to help him wake up, “I’ll give you a kiss now if you wake up.”

“I’m up,” Sehun said, suddenly jolting upright and knocking Jongdae off of him. Even though his eyes were still closed, Sehun grinned, arms feeling around for Jongdae.

“I’m here,” Jongdae said, slipping through Sehun’s outreached arms as he pressed a kiss to Sehun’s cheek. And another one. And another one. Jongdae wanted to stay just like this with Sehun for as long as he could, but after glancing at his watch, he realized it was already 7:10. Oh. He couldn’t be late to work.

Jongdae slid out of bed, laughing when Sehun immediately fell back under the covers without him to hold him up. Sehun could sleep more. After all, it was Jongdae’s time to shower, to change, to get ready for work. Sehun could go after. Sehun always went after.

After Jongdae quickly showered and changed, he began making breakfast, humming under his breath as he turned on the stove and retrieved two eggs from the refrigerator.

It was 7:30 when Sehun finally appeared in their dining room dressed in a meticulously ironed button-up shirt tucked into dark pants.

“You look beautiful today, Sehun,” Jongdae couldn’t help but say, taking a moment more to fondly look at Sehun before he realized the eggs would burn if he kept staring.

“Only today?” Sehun teased, taking a seat at the table before rolling up his sleeves.

“No, not just today of course,” Jongdae said as he set down their eggs and two bowls of rice on the table, “You looked beautiful yesterday, you look beautiful now, and you will look beautiful tomorrow.”

“You’re too good to me, Jongdae,” Sehun grinned before happily taking a bite of his breakfast, “I’m so lucky I have you.”

Jongdae smiled and stretched out his hand across the table. As if it was second nature, Sehun instantly reached out to take it, and Jongdae held on tighter in response, never wanting to let go.

But he had to let go.

Because it was already 7:55, which meant he had to leave at 8:00 if he didn’t want to be late for work.

“I love that you’re my first recipient every day,” Jongdae said as he pulled out a small bottle of pills. They had been given to him for personal use, but he was still ordered to follow regulation and protocol.

“That makes me the luckiest,” Sehun said, reaching out his hand as Jongdae dropped a little white pill into it. Jongdae watched as Sehun slipped the pill into his mouth and gulped it down with water.

“The happiest,” Sehun grinned before kissing Jongdae good-bye. Sehun worked as a high school teacher, so he drove off in one direction while Jongdae drove off in the other.

Before even pulling out of their driveway, Jongdae himself took a pill just like everyone was required to do. Some people said that they felt different after the pill, that they felt even happier than before. But Sehun made him so happy always that Jongdae couldn’t notice any difference that the pill might have made.

It made sense that Jongdae worked as a pill distributor because he was the happiest, and only the happiest people could work in distribution. Jongdae smiled the brightest, smiled the easiest, so of course he wanted to help other people smile like he smiled and feel what he felt every day. Everyone was happy. Everyone had to be happy. To maintain such a desired, happy society, people like Jongdae distributed this pill that they all took once a day. This was how things were. This was how things always happened.

Jongdae drove past straight streets for a while, the distant forest no one ever visited looming in the perimeter, until the tall building he worked at came into view. He never could understand how the building with endless floors always remained spotless and pure white on the outside, as he had never seen anyone even clean the windows. But he knew better than to ask and always remembered to stop lingering on things that could not matter and to focus on driving.

Later he would return to his office in one of those many floors after he was done with fieldwork and distribution. For now, he continued to drive his car into a side entrance, following a twisting path downwards underneath many levels of the building until he reached the distribution area. Many other distributors like him waited in line in their cars to pick up their pills for the day.

Jongdae pulled up behind a car that looked like his, driving slowly whenever someone else moved up in place. Humming at an acceptable volume, he kept both hands on the steering wheel just like they had been taught and told. The bright lights inside the building reflected off of the ring he wore on his fourth finger on his left hand. Temporarily distracted, Jongdae raised his left hand and tilted it slowly around to watch the lights sparkle off of his ring and instantly smiled. Oh, he loved Sehun.

“Hello!” Jongdae beamed at the cheerful attendant who held out his briefcase full of pills when it was his turn to receive, “It’s a beautiful day today! I’m so happy!”

The attendant grinned back as she passed him his full briefcase. Jongdae reached out of his window to take and gently place the briefcase in the seat beside him.

“I’m happy, too! It’s a beautiful day today!” the attendant smiled as she waved good-bye to Jongdae, “Don’t forget to distribute all the pills!”

“I won’t,” Jongdae said as he rolled up the window of his car and drove off, the black briefcase full of pills resting beside him.

Distributors each handled a certain number of people and made sure they took their daily pill. Jongdae’s number every day was exactly one hundred, but it took him no time at all to distribute all one hundred pills. He couldn’t understand why some distributors had a harder time than he had and took longer to finish their daily distribution. It was so easy for Jongdae. After all, who didn’t want to be happy?

His first house was always memorable. Mrs. Kim and her young daughter.

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Mrs. Kim beamed as she opened the door, already prepared with a glass of water in one hand.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kim. Here’s today’s pill,” Jongdae said as he opened the container of pills and shook out exactly one onto Mrs. Kim’s hand. He watched her place it in her mouth and swallow it with water, opening her mouth to show she had really consumed the pill.

“Your daughter must be somewhere,” Jongdae smiled, peeking into the house.

“She’s here,” Mrs. Kim said, pulling a small girl out into the sunlight from behind the door. She attempted to take a step backwards after she saw Jongdae, but Mrs. Kim firmly held her into place.

“You want to be happy,” Mrs. Kim told her daughter before looking back up at Jongdae, “Please give her the pill.”

“It’s okay. It’s only a pill. It’s nothing to dislike,” Jongdae smiled as he bent down to hand the little girl her pill. Mrs. Kim plucked it from her daughter’s hand and gently placed it into her mouth.

“Drink,” she ordered. The little girl made a face at her mother before drinking everything. Mrs. Kim cupped her daughter’s face and opened her mouth as her daughter imitated her. She then examined her daughter’s open mouth for a moment before turning back to Jongdae.

“We must be good for today now,” Mrs. Kim said, turning to Jongdae as she displayed her daughter’s open, empty mouth to him.

“Yes, thank you. You really make my job easy,” Jongdae said as he stood up, preparing to leave to his next recipient, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jongdae distributed more pills until it was Kyungsoo’s turn to receive. Kyungsoo seemed perhaps the most in need of the pills from all of the people Jongdae distributed to. He never made any attempt for small talk unlike some of Jongdae’s other recipients, and he always asked for the pill before Jongdae could even greet him properly.

He reached out to knock on the white door of Kyungsoo’s house, and right on cue just like always, it opened before he could even touch it.

“Please give me my pill, Jongdae. It’ll be a beautiful day,” Kyungsoo smiled as he opened the door completely and stepped closer.

“Hello to you, too, Kyungsoo!” Jongdae said as he extracted a single pill from his container, “It’s already a beautiful day today. Look at that sun!”

Usually most of Jongdae’s recipients held out their hands, waiting for Jongdae to place the pill in their palms, but Kyungsoo liked to take his pill from Jongdae’s hand. Today was just the same, and Jongdae watched as Kyungsoo placed the pill in his mouth and swallowed. Watching the way Kyungsoo's neck flexed as he swallowed, Jongdae was always impressed that Kyungsoo never needed any water to take his pill.

“Yes, it is a beautiful day. Have a good one,” Kyungsoo smiled and waved before closing the door.

Kyungsoo was his easiest recipient.

Sunyoung, however, the last person he distributed to, was not.

But it wasn’t because she was not reluctant to take the pill, no. Everyone wanted to take the pill. This was not her problem, nobody’s problem ever. The only thing wrong with Sunyoung was that she talked too much. Jongdae wanted to head back to his company for his office work as soon as possible, so he attempted to cut their conversations short, responding with single answers, short phrases as she continued to speak about really anything and everything. Yesterday, she told Jongdae how she did not like how her cat kept wandering off at night because she could not keep staying up late to make sure he came back inside.

Today, she greeted Jongdae with a smile, opening her door slightly.

“Hello, Jongdae. There you are again like yesterday. I don’t have to take it, right,” Sunyoung joked.

Jongdae laughed, clapping his hands together in amusement. Sunyoung was so funny!

Of course she had to.

Sunyoung again distracted Jongdae with a new conversation before he could pull out the last pill he had, this time speaking about how she wanted to buy her pair a new dress but was torn between dresses that were the color of the sky or the color of the pill they always had to take. Jongdae quickly told her that she didn’t have to choose between them. If she bought the blue dress now, she could always see her pair in a dress as white as the pills they took if she married her.

“I’d love to stay and talk more, but I’ve got to head back to the office,” Jongdae said as he checked his work after a while, “So do get some water while I get your pill.”

Sunyoung disappeared from the crack of her door for a moment too long. Jongdae was just about to open the door himself to check on her before she returned with water while pressing her lips together in what could pass for a smile. Jongdae gently reached out to take her hand, dropping the pill in her palm before watching her take it.

“See you tomorrow,” she said as she clutched the empty glass.

“Of course!” Jongdae smiled before waving, “It’s a beautiful day!”

Jongdae returned to his work building at 10:00. He was always the first of his other co-workers to finish distribution for the day, so he could pick whichever parking spot he wanted amongst the empty spaces divided by clean white lines. And because he was always first, he could ride the elevator up to his floor alone without being squeezed tight by countless other bodies.

But because he was always first, sometimes the bright hallways and blank walls felt a bit empty. His work floor was no better, and without the company of his co-workers, the floor with neatly arranged offices was silent.

At least Yixing, his floor’s manager, was always in his office, and Jongdae waved when he passed by the glass walls of Yixing’s office.

“Make finding 338 your priority at all costs,” Yixing said before covering the edge of his phone and wishing Jongdae a good morning with a smile. Jongdae returned the sentiment before Yixing moved to shut his office door.

Finally settling down in his office, Jongdae glanced at the framed photograph of Sehun and himself before finally beginning to write reports of today’s work and assemble data of other important matters. As time slowly passed, the rest of his co-workers began to trickle in as they, too, finished distribution and took their spots around Jongdae before starting their own paperwork.

Paperwork at the office was easy for Jongdae because he never had any troubles with the people he distributed to. He always checked a yes off when asked if everyone had taken their pills, if everyone asked no questions, if everyone had left happier than they were before. No one ever resisted, everyone always wanted to take their pill, and Jongdae couldn’t understand why some people had so much trouble making sure all daily pills were consumed, why some people didn’t finish distribution some days. Didn’t everyone want to be happy? Wasn’t everyone supposed to be happy? But in the end, everyone always took their pills. They all did. Because this was how it was.

Occasionally, there were some people, none of Jongdae’s of course, who refused to take their pills for some reason Jongdae didn’t understand. But he had paperwork to fill out, reports to file, so he didn’t try to understand. That was for a different department. Enforcement. Jongdae only worked in distribution, so he didn’t have to understand.

A large crash outside of the window next to Jongdae’s desk jolted him from his work, and he put down his pen to take a look outside. A small group of people had begun piling into dark vans before swiftly sliding the doors shut and driving away. Jongdae assumed they were enforcers, lingering a moment longer before he turned back to his work. He did not question why the people had been dressed in all black or why they had carried guns because he was happy, and happy people minded their own business.

At 5:30, Jongdae drove home after finishing his presentation about effective distribution methods. He anticipated night falling around 6:00 and made sure to turn on his car’s lights to make sure he would be able to see in front of him. The shift from night to day was always abrupt, but Jongdae was used to watching before his very eyes as the blue sky was smothered instantly by the arrival of the dark, so he adjusted without any problems.

When he finally pulled into his driveway, he trudged to the front of his house, fishing out his keys before opening the door. The smell of something savory wafted through the air, and Jongdae immediately dropped his briefcase onto the couch before rushing into the kitchen.

Sehun stood facing the stove, watching over some steaks that he was grilling while occasionally fanning away the smoke. Jongdae slowly slipped his hands around Sehun’s waist before resting his head on Sehun’s broad shoulders. Like yesterday, like today, and like tomorrow, they greeted each other the same, exchanged words of how much they missed each other, how it was too bad they couldn’t spend every second of every day together.

At dinner, Jongdae stretched his arm out across the table to hold Sehun’s hand while they ate and caught up with each other for the day. It was the simple things in their day, the simple times in their life that Jongdae loved the most.

But after dinner, Jongdae loved lying on the couch with Sehun more than most. Sehun always liked to read Jongdae some books he had to teach his high school students, and tonight, Jongdae listened quietly, pressing his head on the top of Sehun’s chest, feeling the vibrations of Sehun’s voice as he read.

“It’s not interesting at all,” Jongdae admitted after a while, causing Sehun to slightly lower the book about some family’s average, every day life. But he didn’t mind because Sehun could have been reading all the numbers out of a telephone book and he would have loved it all the same.

“Well, it’s what my students are allowed to read, unfortunately,” Sehun said, “So I have to teach this even if you’re right.”

“Could you imagine if we had to live like this…like how those people lived in the book?” Jongdae asked.

“But we do,” Sehun blinked, “We go to work every day and come home always no matter what. We wake up at the same time and go to bed at the same time. This is like our life, too, Jongdae.”

“But our life isn’t like theirs,” Jongdae shook his head, looking at Sehun intently, “We go to work every day and we do the same things every day, but don’t you remember all the things we’ve done together when we’ve had spare time? Don’t you remember the beach we visited together? The fireworks we’ve seen on holidays? All the walks we’ve taken through the streets?”

“My life is always different because you’re here,” Jongdae continued before pressing a kiss to Sehun’s cheek, admiring the way Sehun’s eyes crinkled up into beautiful crescents as he grinned.

“You’re right,” Sehun smiled, “Any life with you could never be dull no matter what we do. You make me so happy, Jongdae.”

“Happier than your job makes you?” Jongdae asked, reaching to fondly brush Sehun’s bangs from his eyes, the gel he applied earlier this morning now worn off. He was pushing it with all of these questions, but this was Sehun. He was safe with Sehun.

“Of course,” Sehun said, hugging Jongdae tighter, “You make me the happiest.” The book had long fallen out of his grasp, discarded on the floor, but now, Sehun told Jongdae about his students, how they, like Jongdae, also thought this book was boring even though he had to teach them it anyways. He spoke about whose essay was extraordinary, whose writing needed work, whose tests were always nearly perfect.

“One of them said they wanted to be a librarian so they could pick better books for our class,” Sehun said.

“Oh…A librarian,” Jongdae mused.

“I had to tell her librarians don’t exist anymore,” Sehun shook his head, “It’s really too bad.”

“Was she still happy?” Jongdae cautiously asked.

“Of course,” Sehun said, “She smiled when the bell rang, so I’m sure she’ll be fine. There are other jobs to have anyways.”

“Of course. She can always be a teacher like you, or—” Jongdae said before Sehun interrupted, his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to talk.

“But Jongdae, something was different today. There are usually thirty desks, but why were there only twenty-nine today?” Sehun asked.

“Was anyone missing?” Jongdae asked. It was lucky no one else could hear them speak like this, asking so many questions.

“No. Everyone has to be present. There are no absences,” Sehun shook his head, pressing his lips together as he continued to think.

“Then why are there twenty-nine desks? Twenty-nine is an odd number,” Jongdae asked.

“I…I don’t know,” Sehun sighed, giving up as his expression relaxed.

“Then don’t worry too much about it. You’re happy. Right?” Jongdae asked again. They were only allowed one pill per day, but if Sehun weren’t happy, then Jongdae would have done anything, would have broken protocol and given him extra pills if it would have made him happy again.

“Of course,” Sehun said, reaching over to place his arm around Jongdae’s shoulder, “You’re here after all, Jongdae. I’m lucky you’re my pair.”

Jongdae breathed in relief before he smiled and repeated the same.

Oh, he felt the same.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It was 7:00 when Jongdae woke up the next day.

Yawning, he stretched before silencing the morning alarm on his watch as the sun lightly streamed through the curtains. It was a beautiful day.

Jongdae fondly gazed at Sehun, but when he leaned over to wake him up with a touch to his shoulder, he realized Sehun must have not slept much, if at all. Sehun rolled over to face Jongdae when he felt his touch, his eyes so, so wide.

“Jongdae,” Sehun whispered, “I can’t stop thinking about those desks. Twenty-nine is such an odd number. Nothing in this city is twenty-nine. There are always even numbers of everything. I really could’ve sworn there were thirty.” Sehun quickly sat up on his own this morning, looking at Jongdae so intently as if he could tell him the answers he wanted if he gazed hard enough, if he asked enough.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, placing a hand on his shoulder, knowing that everything had logical explanations, “Maybe today it’ll be fixed. Maybe today you’ll go to your high school and find that the school’s corrected their mistake. Maybe today there will be thirty desks.”

“But what if it’s _not_?” Sehun asked, hands reaching to grab Jongdae’s shoulders as he continued to quickly speak, “What if there’s still twenty-nine desks? What could that mean, Jongdae? You work for management…Do you know what something like this would mean?”

Jongdae placed his hands on top of Sehun’s before gently sliding them away from his shoulders.

“Sehun,” Jongdae tried again as he slid his fingers through Sehun’s and held them tightly, “I only work for distribution. I’m not sure which department would have answers for you, but I can try to find out if you really want.”

Sehun sighed in relief and nodded before he glanced at Jongdae’s watch and released his hands from Jongdae’s grasp.

“It’s 7:10. You should take a shower now,” Sehun smiled before he pressed a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead, “I’ll try to sleep for ten minutes.”

“Alright, alright,” Jongdae smiled at last, the previous worry slowly erased from his mind as he watched Sehun slide back under the blankets. He watched for a moment later before tearing away his gaze and headed to the showers.

After Jongdae showered and changed, he began making breakfast, humming under his breath a little louder than what was acceptable as he turned on the stove and retrieved two eggs from the refrigerator. He had hoped that after a shower, Sehun would feel more like himself. But at 7:30, Sehun walked into their dining room dressed in his normal work clothes though still wore that same, odd expression on his face.

“Are you all right?” Jongdae asked as he placed their breakfast on the table.

“I’m just thinking,” Sehun said before he sat at the table and stared at the wood.

“Please eat,” Jongdae said as he pushed Sehun’s breakfast in front of him. Sehun stared a moment longer at nothing before he picked up a spoon and pierced the yolk of the egg. Jongdae didn’t understand the present silence that they usually filled by talking to each other, rushing their conversations and all the things they wanted to say to each other before leaving for work. Silence during this hour of the day wasn’t normal.

“You’re still thinking of the desks,” Jongdae said as he reached across the table.

“So it’s that obvious,” Sehun looked up as he reached over to hold Jongdae’s hand.

Jongdae didn’t know what to say next, so he didn’t say anything, didn’t want to talk about the subject that Sehun couldn’t leave alone. So he just stared, searching for any signs of unhappiness in Sehun.

“Really, the more I think about it,” Sehun spoke up again, “the more it doesn’t make sense. If there really was a thirtieth desk, then where did that student go? Was there ever a person there? I swear I remember all my students, but why can’t I remember what happened to that desk?”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, smiling wryly, “perhaps you should’ve worked as an enforcer since you seem to ask all the right questions.”

“But I don’t have any answers. And I can’t exactly ask anyone these questions either,” Sehun sighed, “Maybe it’s nothing.”

Jongdae quickly checked his watch and pulled out a pill from his personal canister and gave it to Sehun who accepted it as he kept speaking.

“If it’s nothing,” Sehun said as he put the pill in his mouth and swallowed it with some water, “then when you speak with some people, they’ll have good explanations. Right?”

Sehun set the cup down a little harder today, the dull sound echoing through the silence.

“I guess we’ll see when I find out,” Jongdae said, placing a hand on Sehun’s shoulder, “So please don’t worry. I promise I’ll look into it for you.”

Sehun’s expression soon relaxed, and as he let out a sigh, he looked at Jongdae differently, the wrinkles on his skin disappearing as fast as the corners of his lips stretched upwards.

“I didn’t know you promised me something,” Sehun suddenly said in such a bright tone, causing Jongdae to almost remove his hand in surprise, “That’s very sweet.”

“The desks,” Jongdae said.

“What desks,” Sehun blankly stared.

“The…twenty-nine desks you told me about,” Jongdae said, an odd feeling sparking in him.

“I don’t know these twenty-nine desks, Jongdae,” Sehun said, furrowing his eyebrows slowly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Twenty-nine is an odd number.”

“You know what,” Jongdae said as he placed his pill canister away momentarily, “Never mind. Maybe I’m thinking of something else.”

“Okay,” Sehun nodded, his expression relaxing instantly, kissing Jongdae good-bye before he stood up, “It’s a beautiful day. Enjoy it!”

“You, too,” Jongdae smiled as he walked to his own car and watched Sehun drive off before the smile slid off his face.

The weight of the pill canister felt heavier today as he took it out again, and Jongdae stared at the pills, for once not even looking at the clock. He could spare a minute. The white pills, tinted orange through the container, looked harmless. They were supposed to do good, to make everyone happy. Jongdae didn’t know there were any side effects, but was forgetfulness one of them?

With a jolt, he looked back up at the clock and realized if he didn’t leave now, he’d be late for work. So he quickly opened a bottle of water and took a pill without any hesitation.

Perhaps Sehun was just playing with him. How could he have forgotten so easily? Jongdae had just taken the pill and he still remembered those desks, remembered how Sehun was so…concerned with them…how there were only…only…

Jongdae soon felt the corners of his lips lift up into a smile and let out a laugh as he drove off, the sun and the beautiful sky delighting him and chasing away the last shadowy fragment on his mind before it disappeared completely.

Today was a beautiful day, and he was happy after all.

But as he drove to work and waited in line to pick up his pills from the attendant, he swore he forgot something. What was it? There was something…something very important that he was supposed to do for Sehun. What was it?

He tried remembering what he was supposed to do as he drove up every now and then as the distributors in front of him received their pills. Jongdae swore whatever it was was right on the edge of his memory, like he could just grasp it and–

“Hello! It’s a beautiful day!” the attendant cheerfully said, disrupting Jongdae from his thoughts as she held out a briefcase full of pills, “I’m so happy!”

“Hello!” Jongdae grinned, forgetting whatever he was supposed to be remembering as he accepted the briefcase, “Have a good one.”

Jongdae couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was not all quite right. As the rest of the day passed, he was slightly distracted, thinking of everything that could possibly be what he was supposed to remember. It wasn’t Sehun because he had called at lunch break and had seemed normal enough. It wasn’t his job because he still handed out the same pills and watched as the same people felt the same happiness that their society was predicated upon. So was it the people? The individual recipients Jongdae distributed to?

Nothing Jongdae observed seemed different at least when he started distribution.

“Hello, Jongdae,” Mrs. Kim grinned as she opened the door of her apartment, tightly grasping a glass of water in her other hand.

“Hello, Mrs. Kim. Here’s today’s pill,” Jongdae said as he opened the container of pills and shook out exactly one onto Mrs. Kim’s hand. Today he didn’t watch her take her pill because he was still trying to figure out what this missing thing was. He glanced into her house instead, as if he would find something out of order. But all the chairs were placed ordinarily, everything was neat, and there wasn’t anything he couldn’t explain.

“Your daughter,” Jongdae said, remembering at last when there was no sign of the little girl, “She’s—”

“She’s here,” Mrs. Kim interrupted, pulling her daughter out behind the door to face Jongdae.

Oh.

So it wasn’t her daughter.

“Hello,” Jongdae smiled as he knelt to be eye level with Mrs. Kim’s daughter. Briefly he wondered why he hadn’t noticed her when he looked into the house. He didn’t have time to wonder about the other things he could have been missing.

Mrs. Kim’s daughter silently stared at Jongdae and glanced at the pill as Jongdae held it out to her.

“Be good. Be happy,” Mrs. Kim said, encouraging her daughter to take it. The little girl glanced up at her mother once, looked at Jongdae who nodded, and picked up the pill. She waited a moment before putting it in her mouth and drinking the water her mother gave her.

“Kids these days,” Mrs. Kim laughed as she patted her daughter on her head, “They just don’t know what’s good for them.”

Jongdae smiled in response before wishing them well for the day. Whatever it was he was looking for or was bothering him wasn’t here.

It wasn’t at Kyungsoo’s place either.

Kyungsoo acted the same, greeted him the same, and demanded the pill the same way like always.

“Please give me my pill, Jongdae. Of course I want to be happy,” Kyungsoo smiled as he opened the door and stepped outside to greet Jongdae.

“Hello, Kyungsoo,” Jongdae said as he extracted a single pill and held it out to him, “Today’s blue sky is so beautiful.”

“It’s always blue,” Kyungsoo said before he quickly took the pill and swallowed it dry.

“Have a good one,” Kyungsoo said, a small smile blossoming on his face before a full-blown grin broke out, “It’s so beautiful today.”

Jongdae didn’t realize what he was missing at Sunyoung’s place either.

Today, Sunyoung tried to distract him with questions about which type of ring she should buy for her pair. After a while of entertaining her, Jongdae cut the conversation short and reminded her of why he was truly here.

“Hello, Jongdae. I don’t _have_ to, right,” Sunyoung joked with a smile.

Jongdae chuckled as he pulled out his canister of pills. There was only one left for her, so of course she had to take it. Everyone had to, and Jongdae couldn’t return to his office until all of them were gone.

Today, Sunyoung attempted to dodge all of Jongdae’s mentions of the pill for a while longer, but this wasn’t out of the ordinary. This was Sunyoung, and Jongdae was used to her.

“I don’t _have_ to. You can just let me go,” Sunyoung grinned as she peeked out of the door. She always did like to keep the door mostly closed. Jongdae understood.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sunyoung,” Jongdae laughed, “So do take the pill so we can both get to work.”

Sunyoung pressed her lips together to form a line that could pass for a smile before nodding. Jongdae gently took her hand, pressed the pill to her palm, and watched as she slowly took the pill.

“You’ll have to come tomorrow of course,” Sunyoung said, tightly grasping the half full glass of water.

“Yes I’ll have to, so I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jongdae waved before heading to work.

Jongdae couldn’t concentrate much at work either, but that didn’t minimize his efficiency. He still filled out all his paperwork, filed his reports, and presented his data like his usual self. But when he saw one of his co-workers speak to Yixing through the glass windows of his office, Jongdae thought that seemed familiar. Maybe he was supposed to speak to Yixing, too.

Getting up, Jongdae passed by the neatly arranged desks, the sparkling, shining floors that had been meticulously polished and kept clean until he reached Yixing’s desk.

“I have time to help you if you need, Jongdae,” Yixing said, putting his pen down as he looked up to give Jongdae a dimpled smile. “Please, do take a seat.”

“I…” Jongdae said. Oh, what was it…

“Yes,” Yixing encouraged.

Jongdae stared out of the window next to them for inspiration. The dark forest in the distance with those tall, black trees first drew his attention, but soon enough some people in dark masks standing outside an open van near the building caught his attention instead.

“We’ve located the target,” one of them shouted, “Go in, extract, and get out. If we want to catch 338, we’ll need this one alive.”

Oh. Maybe this.

“I can help them with anything they need. They don’t seem too happy, and it’s my job as a distributor to make—” Jongdae said. He knew better than to ask what the men were doing and what 338 was.

“No, Jongdae. Do your job. This is theirs,” Yixing said, getting up to close the window, “Some people have to sacrifice their happiness to maintain the happiness of others. This just comes with their job.”

“That’s too bad,” Jongdae shook his head.

“You seem concerned,” Yixing said, looking at him a bit more carefully.

“I just…feel like I’m forgetting something,” Jongdae said.

“We moved your presentation to today, so perhaps—”

“Oh!” Jongdae said, “Of course! Thank you!”

But when he returned to his desk, he remembered that he already finished the presentation, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

It wasn’t that either.

Jongdae shrugged and went back to work normally. Perhaps it was just some side effect of the pill. Some occasional side effect. He happily continued to do his work, humming under his breath as he revised other reports submitted to him. Sometimes, some of his co-workers would pass by him and offer to buy him anything from the café downstairs if he wanted. He would say no, thank you. Sometimes, other co-workers would ask him for help, for him to look at their reports and give his opinion. He would say yes, no problem. And today, sometime around 4:00, about an hour before work finished, someone in a white coat walked out onto their floor to make an announcement.

“Do not mind the screaming behind the third window. This is normal,” the person said.

“Yes. Of course,” Jongdae would say.

As if on cue, a strangled, piercing screaming began sounding beyond the third window and reverberated everywhere.

Jongdae turned back to his work just like everyone else and continued to write. He didn’t mind the screaming at all because he was happy, and happy people minded their own business.

At 5:30, Jongdae finally drove home after quite a vague day. He took a second to breathe after parking his car, took another second to pull out his keys, and took another moment to lean against the wall of the doorway as he slowly took off his shoes instead of kicking them off like usual.

But he rushed to find Sehun in the kitchen, unable to wait to kiss his cheek, to kiss his skin, to hold him, to whisper how much he missed him.

Jongdae knew that something was wrong when he noticed Sehun’s grip on the spatula tightening, his countenance tensing, and when he didn’t immediately reciprocate Jongdae’s sentiments. This time, Sehun didn’t wait until after dinner, after Jongdae asked him how everything was. Without missing a beat, Sehun spoke before Jongdae could speak.

“Jongdae, there were twenty-eight desks today,” Sehun said, “Twenty-eight isn’t an odd number so it’s fine, but I really could’ve sworn there were twenty-nine. And thirty. Thirty.”

With that Jongdae gasped, and suddenly he was hit full force with the weight of what he missed, what he only just remembered.

“Oh my god,” Jongdae said, pressing a hand to his face, “I was supposed to ask someone about the twenty-nine desks. How could I have forgotten?”

“Oh,” Sehun said, turning to look at Jongdae with an expression he couldn’t recognize, “No…That’s it. Twenty-eight. We talked about twenty-nine yesterday, right? Right? So that did happen…How…did I forget too?”

“How did we both forget,” Jongdae said, gently taking over the cooking as he noticed Sehun staring anywhere but the food in front of him. “Maybe they’re having a desk shortage. They’re only desks.”

“But if there were desks, then that means that people sat there. Students. My students. How could I have students that I can’t remember? What happened to them, Jongdae?” Sehun said, at least able to move to the side of the stove to avoid obstructing Jongdae’s view of the pan.

Jongdae looked at something wild, something he didn’t have the words to describe, threaten to break through Sehun’s features and quickly shook his head.

“No,” Jongdae said, “No. That can’t be. Things like this do not happen. Upper management wants everyone to be happy, so they wouldn’t do anything wrong.”

Sehun remained silent for a moment before he sighed and tiredly leaned against Jongdae.

“You’re right,” Sehun said, “Maybe I just remembered wrong. It’s exam season, so everyone’s been stressed at school.”

“Right,” Jongdae said. They dropped the subject that night, but Jongdae went to bed with wide eyes wondering how he could’ve forgotten his promise so easily.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It was 7:00 when Jongdae woke up the next day not immediately by his own alarm, but by Sehun who pushed himself on top of him.

Jongdae wriggled his arms slightly to turn off his alarm before placing his arm over Sehun. Sehun kept his eyes closed, but pressed his skin against Jongdae’s skin, laid his head on Jongdae’s chest as if he wanted to hear his heart beat for himself. Jongdae pushed Sehun’s bangs from his face, noticing the way Sehun’s eyebrows were furrowed again. He didn’t know what it was, why only desks were bothering Sehun so much, but he soothingly rubbed his back and softly hummed Sehun’s favorite song for him. But only for ten minutes because at 7:10, Jongdae regretfully had to slide out of Sehun’s arms and head for the showers. He couldn’t be late for work.

Their morning routine passed by as usual, Jongdae making breakfast, Sehun showing up in his sleek outfit, his button-up shirt, his neatly styled hair. But this time after breakfast as Jongdae pulled out their pills for today, Sehun said something quite unusual.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Jongdae asked, not looking up as he shook out exactly one pill for Sehun.

“Jongdae,” Sehun quietly called his name, the strange tone of his voice causing Jongdae to look up immediately, “Do I have to?”

“You sound like Sunyoung,” Jongdae said as he held out the pill with one hand and placed the canister upright on the table next to him with the other. They were running low. He’d have to pick up a new bottle for him and Sehun soon.

“Do I have to?” Sehun repeated, “Can’t I skip one today.”

“I’m sorry, Sehun,” Jongdae said, keeping his arm stretched out and waiting for Sehun to take it, “I’m a distributor. What would they say if I couldn’t even successfully distribute to my pair?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry for asking,” Sehun said, his expression dropping so fast Jongdae immediately hated what he said. But Sehun had already reached for the pill and swallowed it before he could think about changing his mind. So that was that.

“I’ll ask for you,” Jongdae amended, not quite liking such an abnormal expression on Sehun’s face, “About the desks. I’ll try again today.”

Again, Jongdae watched as the corners of Sehun’s lips relaxed before quickly snapping up into a wide smile. At least that was normal. There was nothing else he had to do, so he picked up the canister again, and—

“Oh, Jongdae,” Sehun laughed, “You’re so funny! What desks are you talking about?”

Jongdae felt the weight of the pills in his hand as Sehun kissed him good-bye. Sehun who had not been so cheerful smiled like nothing happened, like he had forgotten everything, and he waved one last time before leaving him for the day. There was something about the pills that Jongdae distributed. He realized that now. But happy people minded their own business, so Jongdae took his own pill for the day and drove off without a further thought.

It wasn’t like he _could_ think of anything else as he admired the endless blue sky that stretched out for eternity with a wide, wide grin on his face anyways.

At work, the appearance of a new attendant startled him out of his prolonged happiness.

“I’ve always been here,” this new attendant smiled as she held out Jongdae’s case of pills for the day.

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Jongdae smiled, not reaching out to take the pills yet, “I could’ve sworn that there was someone who used to work in your place.”

The slightest bit of inquiring seemed to have flustered the new attendant, as her smile wavered before breaking completely. Looking around, she watched for something before stepping close to Jongdae’s car.

“The attendant before me lost her pair, so management’s given her time off,” the attendant whispered.

“Oh,” Jongdae said, mirroring her hushed tone, “I didn’t know that could happen.”

“Of course it can. Maybe they’re dead or they’ve done something the management didn’t like. I don’t know. But she’s gone,” the attendant said, looking around her once more before spotting something that caused her to straighten up, to pull the corners of her lips up into a smile. Jongdae would’ve been fooled had it not been for how blank her eyes looked.

Perhaps Jongdae would have to find out if there was truly a malfunction in the pills today because he didn’t feel his normal levels of happiness. It showed in his work. He didn’t stay and chat with Sunyoung, simply cutting to the end and insisting she took her pill no matter what today. He didn’t remember his presentation had been rescheduled to tomorrow so he showed up ready to speak only to find an empty conference room. And he didn’t remember what Yixing had requested him to do until he was summoned into his office.

He was still so preoccupied with what he had heard, what he had learned. Someone could lose their pair through ways other than death. He didn’t want to lose Sehun. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose Sehun.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, calling Sehun a little early during lunch break today. He clutched his phone in his hand, desperate to hear the only voice that mattered.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, “I’m—”

“You’re here,” Jongdae said, breathing a little easier at the sound of Sehun’s voice, “Please don’t go.”

“I mean…I’ll have to when we both have to go back to work, but for now I’m right here. We’re here,” Sehun said.

So Jongdae took a deep breath, tried to relax, and clutched his phone tighter as he continued talking to Sehun. Things felt all right now.

But things did not feel all right when Jongdae returned home.

Before he could even reach for the doorknob, Sehun swung the door open, pulling Jongdae inside their house before he slammed the door, locked it, and grabbed his shoulders.

“There were only twenty-seven desks today,” Sehun said, fingers digging into Jongdae’s shoulders, “Twenty-seven. I was so sure there were thirty, but that can’t be possible because everyone has a chair, and there are no absences.”

Jongdae suddenly felt weak, his hands rushing to press against his cheeks as he remembered.

“Sehun, the _desks_ ,” Jongdae said, “Why do I keep forgetting?”

Sehun froze for a moment as if he, too, had just remembered that there once were more desks than this.

Thirty.

Twenty-nine.

Twenty-eight.

“There’s something wrong,” Sehun said, letting go of Jongdae for a moment as he began pacing around, dinner forgotten, “and there has to be a reason why we keep forgetting. They must want us to forget what they’re doing with the desks, to my students.”

“Who’s they,” Jongdae said, stepping in Sehun’s path to stop his pacing for a moment.

“I don’t know,” Sehun said, placing his hands on Jongdae’s shoulders. Suddenly he couldn’t remember when Sehun had started growing so much taller than him. Surely there was a time when he was shorter, but Jongdae couldn’t quite remember. “But there’s something wrong, wrong, wrong. And if there were thirty desks, then I’m missing three students. I’m responsible for them, Jongdae. I can’t…I promised their parents I’d take care of them.”

“What if their parents know,” Jongdae said, “What if this is normal.”

“What if they forgot them, too? Does this mean I can forget you? I can’t…this is all so much to think about,” Sehun said, dropping his hands from Jongdae’s shoulders to run his fingers through his hair. The action left his hair more ruffled than it had been before, and Jongdae was tempted to reach up and tousle it to see just how messy it could be.

“That’s impossible,” Jongdae said, refusing to believe, “You can’t forget people you love, Sehun. What type of love would that be then? Parents remember their children, friends remember each other, and I remember you. It’s for forever, this kind of love. We’re forever, you and me.”

Sehun looked at Jongdae silently, his lips pressing together and eyebrows tilting upwards. Jongdae recognized this look, remembered it countless times before. It was the same look Sehun wore the day Jongdae gently took his hand and told him he didn’t care if they were pairs or not because Sehun was it, the only one Jongdae wanted and needed, the day they were officially declared pairs anyways to no one’s surprise, and the days Sehun came home after long days of work ready to collapse from exhaustion before Jongdae would catch him, hum his favorite melody, and whisper he loved him, oh he loved him.

It was the kind of look Sehun always wore when he didn’t care about anything else except the man right in front of him even when he was supposed to care about everything in this society.

And it was the kind of look that flooded Jongdae’s heart with nothing but love.

“I didn’t make dinner tonight, Jongdae,” Sehun softly said, arms reaching out for Jongdae, “I was too busy thinking.”

“We can just order food. It’s all good,” Jongdae smiled, “Just relax. Things will be fine.”

Sehun acted as if he had forgotten everything for the rest of the night, never bringing up those desks anymore. But it was Jongdae who was still preoccupied with not twenty-nine, twenty-eight, and twenty-seven, but with the thought that it was possible for someone to lose their pair. It was possible to lose Sehun.

There were many things that were forbidden in public.

Loud noises.

Questions.

Refusing to take the daily pill.

But Jongdae quickly found himself thinking even as they laid in bed later that night that he would do anything to keep Sehun with him even if he had to ignore all the laws that had been so carefully and routinely taught to every citizen in this society.

At 7:00 the next day, Jongdae almost forgot what he had been thinking of so deeply as he woke up. Almost. It seemed like Sehun forgot what he had been preoccupied with as well, as they had almost made it through their morning routine without even a mention of what they had discussed. Almost.

Because at 7:55, Jongdae pulled out his personal pill canister and began twisting the cap off before Sehun loudly shouted.

“It’s the pills,” Sehun quickly said, standing up so fast he knocked the chair to the floor with a crash, “Jongdae, it’s the pills. It has to be. They don’t just make you happy, right? They make you forget things that you’re not supposed to think about.”

“Please,” Sehun tried again before Jongdae could even react, his hands trembling as he placed them on top of Jongdae’s, “Let me skip today.”

Jongdae paused for a moment. This was the job. He was the top distributor. Who was he…What type of worker was he if he excused this behavior in his own house, with his own pair?

But this was Sehun who Jongdae would lie for, would die for, so there was only one choice from here. Jongdae didn’t care if he’d lose his job because he had already denied Sehun once, but never again. If Sehun asked for something, Jongdae would grant it now no matter the cost.

“Okay,” Jongdae slowly said, “okay.”

“Really?” Sehun asked, looking taken aback for a moment.

“Just promise you’ll act normal so no one will be suspicious,” Jongdae said, lowering the canister, “I don’t know what will happen if people will find out. No doubt the enforcers will have to be involved, but I don’t want them to do anything to you.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, his expression softening, “You make me so happy always, so I wouldn’t even have to act. All I’d have to do is think of you, and I’ll be smiling brighter than anyone on the pill anyways.”

“Alright,” Jongdae gave in, slowly smiling, “Just be careful.”

Sehun promised.

But Jongdae still was not exempt. After all, he was still a distributor and meant to be a good example for others. Sehun watched in silence, pressing his lips together, grabbing Jongdae’s hand before he could get a chance to open the canister.

“I have to,” Jongdae said, swinging their clasped hands for a moment, “Don’t worry. It’s just a pill. Everyone takes it, so I’ll be fine.”

Jongdae lifted Sehun’s hand up to press a kiss to it before he let go and took the pill without any further hesitation.

Jongdae focused on Sehun’s face as he took another sip of water. He felt the same…See. There wasn’t anything different with him. He still remembered Sehun, and quickly, he felt his spirits lift, a smile appearing on his face.

“You’re going to ask about the desks, right?” Sehun quietly said after a moment.

Jongdae laughed.

He was so happy!

He was so! Happy!

He was! So happy!

“What desks, Sehun?” Jongdae beamed, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He didn’t understand why Sehun suddenly pressed his hands against his face, why his eyes suddenly widened, why he suddenly stood up and circled around Jongdae looking at him wildly.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, checking his watch, “We’re both going to be late if we don’t leave now.”

He reached out to catch Sehun who was still pacing around before he kissed him and left.

“It’s a beautiful day! I’m so happy!” Jongdae said before Sehun shouted something back at him.

“Jongdae,” Sehun loudly said, “Try to remember.”

“Alright,” Jongdae waved before he got in his car.

But what did he have to remember?

He felt like he had lived with this feeling before, although now that Sehun told him to remember, perhaps it was something that they had discussed. Work?

There was a new attendant today that he had never seen before, but he didn’t ask why neither the original nor the newer one had returned. Or perhaps it was the people he distributed to. Jongdae sometimes talked to Sehun about the people he worked with, so maybe Sehun wanted him to remember it was someone’s birthday.

“Hello Mrs. Kim,” Jongdae said when Mrs. Kim opened her door to routinely greet him, “Today must be your birthday. You look extra happy.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Mrs. Kim said, her lips stretching upwards even more, “But it isn’t.”

“Let me know when it actually is,” Jongdae said before taking out a pill that Mrs. Kim accepted. Today he let his gaze wander again into Mrs. Kim’s house, wondering if anything could be something he missed. Nothing seemed to be out of order, but Mrs. Kim’s daughter was still nowhere to be seen.

“Your daughter,” Jongdae said, “She—”

“She’s here,” Mrs. Kim interrupted before turning her head to loudly call her daughter’s name.

Jongdae pressed his lips together when no one came. It was fine. He still had time to wait. Mrs. Kim smiled at him reassuringly before calling her daughter’s name again.

“She must be sleeping,” Mrs. Kim said before stepping backwards, “Let me get her. You can wait inside if you like.”

Jongdae took a step inside the house as Mrs. Kim hurried up the stairs. He glanced at the polished photographs, the spotless floor, and the clear mirror hanging in the hallway, trying to ignore the hushed whispering that wasn’t as hushed as Mrs. Kim probably would have liked. It wasn’t his place to ask questions. But he could not help wonder what was happening when someone let out a short cry.

Moments later, Mrs. Kim reappeared, this time holding her daughter’s hand as she lead her to Jongdae.

“Hello,” Jongdae smiled as he knelt by Mrs. Kim’s daughter. Today, she had a little red mark blossoming on her cheek.

“Be _happy_ ,” Mrs. Kim firmly said, tightening her grasp on her daughter’s hand. The little girl glanced up at her mother once before reaching out her hand towards Jongdae who shook a pill onto her hand. This time she didn’t wait and quickly swallowed the pill.

“Kids these days,” Mrs. Kim laughed as she let go of her daughter’s hand and placed it around her shoulder, “They just don’t know what’s good for them.”

Jongdae simply turned around and left to attend to other people, though not before remembering to wish them well.

But Kyungsoo was one of the people who knew exactly what was good for him and perhaps wanted it too much. Jongdae never noticed anything out of ordinary, so it couldn’t possibly be anything related to Kyungsoo. Today Kyungsoo didn’t even bother with friendly formalities, cutting straight to the point before Jongdae could even greet him.

“Please give me my pill. I need. I need to be happy,” Kyungsoo said as he opened the door before Jongdae could even knock.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, reaching to pull out Kyungsoo’s pill, “That’s why I’m here. Don’t worry, you’ll be even happier soon.”

“Now. I need it now,” Kyungsoo shook his head.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Jongdae said, unsure of what else to say as Kyungsoo grabbed the pill and swallowed it. He watched as Kyungsoo’s expression relaxed right before his eyes and as he took a deep breath.

“Yes. It always is,” Kyungsoo smiled before he wished Jongdae well and shut the door.

That was Kyungsoo.

Always perhaps too needy, but still nothing Jongdae had forgotten.

Sunyoung, however, had suddenly begun to make Jongdae think.

“I can’t not take it, right?” Sunyoung said today, sounding almost exactly like Sehun. She still smiled, but after what had been going on, Jongdae wasn’t so sure she was joking anymore.

Jongdae almost gave in just like he gave into Sehun, but Sunyoung wasn’t Sehun, so here he was giving her today’s pill.

This time he made her open her mouth so he could make sure she had truly taken it.

Jongdae was still the first to come back to his office, but today, he stared a little longer, listened a little harder when his co-workers filed in. He didn’t mind his business all the time, looking out for anything that was out of place, but he was still happy so he supposed it was alright. He was. It was.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened the rest of the day, so Jongdae was prepared to simply curl up with Sehun at home and forget that anything seemed wrong.

But that was impossible.

Because when Jongdae opened the front door of his house, he found everything in disarray, papers cluttering the living room, chairs pushed out of their normal place. Sehun didn’t notice Jongdae for a moment, shifting through the stacks and piles of paper tirelessly until he looked up and saw him standing by the door.

“I found these papers, Jongdae,” Sehun said, standing up and grabbing a few papers as he went to Jongdae.

“I see,” Jongdae said, still unable to look away from the mess. What was wrong with Sehun?

“Let me start from the beginning,” Sehun said, noticing Jongdae’s reaction, “I almost forgot about the desks, but I only remembered when someone asked me how many desks I needed because the school planned to replace them and get new ones.”

“Oh! Of course,” Jongdae said, the full weight of what he had finally remembered sinking in again. The desks. The _desks_. He always forgot somehow, but at least he had Sehun to remind him.

“But after I remembered, I started looking around my classroom and the school for any signs of my missing students,” Sehun said.

“You found them then,” Jongdae said, glancing at the papers bunched up into Sehun’s hands.

“I found thirty folders. Thirty,” Sehun said, “And inside, I found graded tests.”

“So they do exist,” Jongdae said, his hands moving over to cover his mouth to and suppress something that had been kindling inside him more and more lately.

“Look,” Sehun said, flipping through the pages in front of Jongdae, “Doyeon. Yoojung. Yeri. They wrote their names here and took these tests. I graded them myself, so this _had_ to have happened. They _have_ to exist. They must be out there somewhere. I…Something is not right.”

Jongdae glanced at Sehun’s messy hair, his wild eyes, and for a moment could not recognize him.

“Something isn’t right, Jongdae,” Sehun said, a little louder this time.

“But things like this do not happen,” Jongdae said. After all, it was what they had been told, what every citizen had been told all this time. Things that weren’t normal did not happen. The sky was always blue, always beautiful. There was always an even number of everything. Everyone always had a pair. Everyone was always happy.

“But Jongdae,” Sehun said, pressing the papers into Jongdae’s hands, “Something is not _right_.”

And as Jongdae glanced at the papers, glanced at the different handwriting scribbled on the top of them that spelled out Choi Yoojung, Kim Doyeon, and Kim Yeri, he had to admit that Sehun was right.

It took only Sehun one day without a pill to find what he shouldn’t have known, one file of papers to confirm what he had suspected all this time, and one decision that would destroy both of them during the times to come.

“I’m going to find them,” Sehun announced, causing Jongdae to loosen his grasp on the papers until they fluttered to the floor, almost indistinguishable from the other cluttered papers around them. “I’m going to find my students.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae didn’t need his usual 7:00 alarm to wake him up on time the next morning.

After all, he had spent the entire night staring at the black ceiling whose darkness was only just tamed by the few streetlights outside. Sehun, for all that he had said and done yesterday, was the one sleeping soundly next to him. So Jongdae lay awake and alone while thinking too much, far more than what was probably acceptable, and kept his arm around Sehun as if he held on tight enough, Sehun would not leave him. In the middle of the night he had reluctantly removed his arm from under Sehun and flexed it, feeling the tingly jolt of needles pricking his numb arm. But he did not keep away and kept a hand pressed against Sehun for the rest of the night.

So at 7:00, Jongdae mindlessly turned off his alarm and turned to wake Sehun. For a second, his hand hovered above Sehun’s shoulder. Maybe there was a chance Sehun could have forgotten everything throughout the night.

“Sehun,” Jongdae whispered, shaking Sehun as gently as he could, “Wake up.”

It took only a few minutes for Sehun to stir, to wake completely, but less than a minute for him to blink and remember.

“Oh my god,” Sehun said, pressing a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe what we found yesterday.”

“What you found,” Jongdae said, letting his hand drop away. There wasn’t a chance at all. “It was you.”

“You can’t give me the pill today either,” Sehun said, hands fumbling around to find Jongdae’s, “I don’t know what it will do.”

“You should sleep a little more,” Jongdae insisted, pulling the blankets tighter around Sehun, “I’ll shower first.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, his gaze flickering to the ceiling above, “I’m going to find my students and figure out what happened to them.”

“I know,” Jongdae said, flashing a smile for a moment before it dropped off his face quicker than it had appeared.

Jongdae continued his morning routine, wondering what this could mean for them. What this meant for Sehun. The enforcers would not realize this early that Sehun had not been taking his pills. Would they? They would not take Sehun from him because of this. Would they? They would not let Sehun go if they knew. Jongdae would.

When Sehun appeared downstairs freshly showered, Jongdae spun to face him, pointing the spatula at Sehun as he pushed down images of Sehun being taken away by those people dressed in black, of Sehun being taken to some place far from him, of Sehun separated from him.

“How will you act today,” Jongdae said, his hand slightly trembling.

“What?” Sehun asked, stopping in his tracks before he could enter the room.

“Sehun, I need to know how you will act today,” Jongdae said while the egg in the pan crackled behind him, “Show me. Can you appear like everyone else without your pill? Surely it must be harder if you don’t take it for two days in a row.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, taken aback, “I hadn’t thought about that. Well. How do we usually act?”

“We’re happy,” Jongdae said as he turned around to stare at the pan. He thought of the people that he worked with, the people that passed him by in the streets, the person he came home to every day. “We’re beautiful. We’re good.”

Sehun shrugged.

“Then I’ll be fine,” Sehun said as he smiled, walking to Jongdae and twirling him around before catching him in his arms, “You make me happy after all.”

“I mean it, Sehun,” Jongdae said, smiling so easily even though this whole situation was not all right, “Don’t raise any unnecessary concerns to yourself.”

“Of course,” Sehun grinned, plucking the spatula from Jongdae’s grasp as he flipped the eggs that were slightly burned by now.

Breakfast was the same. Jongdae and Sehun ate adjacent to each other, hands stretched out and clasped across the table. But today, it was easier to focus on the clinking of their forks on their ceramic plates than it was to focus on Sehun thinking out loud how he was going to solve and fix everything. Jongdae wondered if anyone could hear them right now, if their neighbors across the street could listen and turn Sehun in.

“Do you have to take your pill today, too?” Sehun asked after breakfast.

“So you won’t join me,” Jongdae said even now as he pulled out the orange canister.

“You should join _me_ ,” Sehun said, moving his chair closer to Jongdae, “I don’t think we need the pill at all. We’re perfectly happy by ourselves.”

“Everyone has to,” Jongdae said, his hands resting on the cap of the canister for a moment. But that wasn’t true. He was letting Sehun skip another day after all.

“I’ll help you remember,” Sehun nodded, “If you have to take the pills, then I’ll help you remember everything. The desks. The strangeness. The students.”

Jongdae nodded as he rolled a pill into his hand and took a deep breath. He had done this more times than he could count, but for some reason, his heart beat faster than normal today before he swallowed. Perhaps it was because Sehun had pulled his chair even closer, sitting so their knees lightly grazed while he gazed intently at Jongdae.

“You know,” Jongdae said, hesitating for a moment, dropping his hand to his lap, “If this pill really does erase some memories—”

“It does,” Sehun firmly said.

“Then I don’t care what memories it erases because I’ll always remember you, Sehun. And that’s enough,” Jongdae nodded before finally popping the pill in his mouth and taking a gulp of water before Sehun could react.

Sehun’s smile was the last thing Jongdae registered before he looked around, taking a deep breath as he suddenly felt so…light. A smile burst forth from his lips, and he looked back at Sehun who stared with wide eyes.

“I know I’m beautiful, but you can’t stare forever. We have work!” Jongdae cheerfully said, standing up from the chair. He felt so great. Today! A beautiful day! It was!

“Jongdae, wait….wait, _wait_ ,” Sehun said, gently pushing Jongdae back down on the chair as he hovered, arms moving to grasp Jongdae’s shoulders.

“Do you remember the desks?” he slowly asked.

“What desks? My desk? The one at work? Or yours…the one at your school?” Jongdae asked. He didn’t know why Sehun was like this. Where was his smile he loved to see? His eyes that would disappear into little moons when he laughed?

“Jongdae,” Sehun said again, reaching out to touch Jongdae’s face as he moved closer, “Don’t you remember the desks? What we talked about? How there were thirty, and—”

“Sehun?” Jongdae tentatively said, “What do you mean?”

“Oh…” Sehun said, pressing his lips into a hard line before speaking again, “What do you remember yesterday?”

“I remember I came home,” Jongdae said, continuing as Sehun nodded encouragingly, “I came home to you, Sehun. And I remember how beautiful you looked, how beautiful you always look. I think the gel on your hair must have worn off because your bangs were flying into your face. I think you’ll need a haircut soon if it keeps growing out like that.”

“Do you remember anything else?” Sehun asked, his thumb rubbing the skin of Jongdae’s cheek causing him to shiver.

“I remember we ate dinner like usual, sitting across from each other holding hands like always. Today during my break at work I’ll remember to make a reservation for that place you like, Sehun. It’s been a while since we’ve eaten there,” Jongdae smiled, reaching out to touch Sehun’s face, too.

“It seems like you’re missing the most important parts,” Sehun said, causing Jongdae to sigh.

“I don’t know what you want me to try and remember,” Jongdae said, letting his hand fall from Sehun’s face, “You _are_ the most important part. It’s always you.”

“Okay then let me try,” Sehun said, bending down to press his forehead to Jongdae’s before his voice dropped into a hush.

“Do you remember how I ran to you when you came home,” Sehun whispered, his breath tickling Jongdae’s skin.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jongdae whispered back.

“Do you remember how you grabbed my arms and asked me what was wrong,” Sehun said.

Oh.

Did he really?

Jongdae fought hard to remember, and oh…there it was. The memory shining through the hazy fog of what Sehun wanted him to remember.

“Yes,” Jongdae said back, the smile began to disappear from his face.

“Do you remember how I showed you the papers?” Sehun said, and as if noticing Jongdae’s hesitation, he continued, “I showed you the papers, pressed them to your hands. The papers with the names of my three students, my three missing students who sat at the three missing desks, and –”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jongdae said, looking up at last, “Oh…Oh. How could I have forgotten so easily?”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Sehun said, sighing in relief.

“No, really, I…forgot again,” Jongdae said, looking concerned as he only just remembered everything that happened.

“I feel like this has happened before, hasn’t it,” Jongdae said in a softer voice.

“It’s the pills,” Sehun said, “There’s no way it can’t be.”

Jongdae stared before he spoke again, even quieter now.

“I’ll have to keep taking them,” Jongdae said, “It’ll be too suspicious if we both don’t take them.”

There was no way he could not. Even if he could fool the every day people on the streets or even the people he distributed to, he shared a workplace with the city’s top distributors. And Yixing. They would instantly realize what Jongdae had done if they were to even glance at him.

“Then I’ll help you remember,” Sehun said, “Every day after you take that pill, I’ll be there, and I’ll help you remember whatever it is you forget.”

Jongdae couldn’t say anything, but stood and held Sehun, pressing his cheek into the top of Sehun’s chest. He didn’t want to look at his watch because he knew it was time to go, but for a moment more, he closed his eyes and pretended like he didn’t have work waiting for him, like didn’t have the rest of society waiting for him so he could spend eternities with Sehun. Just like this.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I’ll figure it out,” Sehun said, kissing the top of Jongdae’s head.

Jongdae allowed himself to stay like this a moment longer before he opened his eyes and slid out of Sehun’s arms, already knowing he would have to drive slightly faster today so he wouldn’t be late.

“Don’t do anything that would endanger you,” Jongdae firmly said, “Don’t be anything other than happy, and especially _don’t_ cause people to start asking questions. You know everything goes wrong when that happens.”

“I won’t,” Sehun cheerfully said before Jongdae left for work.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sehun did.

Jongdae didn’t know what Sehun had been doing throughout the early morning, as he had been in the field distributing and therefore unable to answer any phone calls that Sehun might have tried to place.

But he found out around 11:30 right before lunch break.

“Jongdae, you have a visitor,” Yixing said, knocking on Jongdae’s desk to grab his attention.

“What?” Jongdae said, lifting his pen from the white paper. He wasn’t supposed to have visitors during work hours. Of course upper management occasionally allowed it, but during work they were supposed to _work_. Not receive visitors. Even through all the years Jongdae had known—

“Sehun,” Jongdae said when he looked up. There beside Yixing stood Sehun who stretched his lips into a wide smile. Oh. While this visit was unusual, Jongdae wasn’t complaining. This was Sehun after all.

“Remember that your meeting is in two hours,” Yixing said one final time before leaving Sehun with Jongdae.

“Hello, Sehun,” Jongdae tentatively said, though he still reached forwards to grab Sehun’s hand, “You’re—”

Sehun moved forwards anyways and sat in Jongdae’s lap, pressing his weight onto the top of Jongdae’s thighs. He then gently moved his hand out of Jongdae’s grasp and placed his arm around Jongdae’s shoulders to steady himself.

“Hello, Jongdae,” Sehun cheerfully said as Jongdae reflexively slid an arm over Sehun’s waist to hold him in place.

“You’re a bit big for this,” Jongdae amusedly said, smiling anyways, smiling despite all the distributors they were surrounded by. What if they knew…what if they knew…what if they—

“You only say that because you’re at work,” Sehun said, glancing around for the first time since he arrived. His voice trailed off as he noticed how many other distributors were present and quickly pushed the corners of his lips even higher just in case.

“You should be at work, too,” Jongdae said.

“My kids have some visitor coming to speak to them about future careers,” Sehun said before he dipped his head and pressed his lips to Jongdae’s neck.

“You must be here for some specific reason,” Jongdae said, not that he wasn't enjoying this.

“I found some things I couldn’t wait to tell you about. Some things maybe you can ask around about if you have time,” Sehun said, whispering into Jongdae’s skin.

Jongdae remained silent as he waited for Sehun to continue and glanced around the office again. Luckily, most of his co-workers were too far away to even hear a fragment of what Sehun was whispering. But unluckily, the co-worker nearest to him dropped a pen on the floor, as if using that as an excuse to stare at Sehun for a second.

“I went through the old filing cabinets that haven’t been thrown out yet,” Sehun said, “There were those three names again. Yoojung. Doyeon. Yeri. They really were there. There’s more proof. Whoever tried to hide them didn’t do such a good job.”

“Maybe they moved away and didn’t bother to tell you or the school,” Jongdae said, laughing to show the people that they were just talking about light-hearted things like what was for dinner. Normal things.

“All three at once?” Sehun said before lifting his head to smile at Jongdae. Jongdae held his gaze and relaxed for a moment, almost forgetting to exhale as he remembered how much he loved Sehun’s smile, how much love he felt when Sehun smiled.

“I’ll find out before I come home,” Jongdae said, causing Sehun to squeeze Jongdae’s arm in gratitude, “You came here just for this then.”

“No, of course not,” Sehun said a little louder now since they were talking about acceptable things. He then reached behind him, hands fumbling around the floor before he grasped what he needed, “You left your lunch at home.”

“Oh! I guess I must’ve forgotten after that morning,” Jongdae said, taking his lunch from Sehun, “Thank you for reminding me.”

Sehun pressed one last kiss to Jongdae’s cheek before hurrying back to his school. Jongdae watched him leave, admiring the way that one, stubborn piece of hair that wouldn’t stay gelled moved up and down as he briskly walked out of the building.

He wasn’t the only one that watched.

For the rest of the day, Jongdae filed his paperwork, wrote his reports, held his meeting, and continued to work. He kept his head down, but he still thought of what Sehun had said.

Jongdae couldn’t directly ask, no. But he could try…try to find _something_ by speaking to Yixing. Determined, he dropped his pen and strode to Yixing’s office before he could change his mind.

“Transfer all known data regarding 338 to—” Yixing spoke into his phone before he noticed Jongdae and froze for a moment, “I’ll call you back in five minutes.”

“This was a bad time. Maybe I should go so you can get back to your phone call,” Jongdae said, pointing behind him even though his feet stayed rooted in place.

“No, no, do sit, Jongdae,” Yixing said as he gestured to the chair in front of him, “You’re always welcome here.”

Jongdae stood anyways, observing the unusual way Yixing’s other hand continued to grip his phone tightly. He took a deep breath, staring out of the window to collect his thoughts. He didn’t know why anyone hadn’t tried naming the dark forest with the impossibly tall trees that seemed to get closer with every passing day. All things had names in this society. There were distributors, enforcers, and –

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, interrupting Jongdae again, “Speak.”

“Something happens to people who don’t take their pills,” Jongdae slowly said before his gaze flicked back to Yixing’s face, “I’m not sure what.”

Yixing remained silent for a moment before leaning back into his chair.

“Leave that to the enforcers, Jongdae. You’re only a distributor,” Yixing said.

“I know,” Jongdae said, “But I just wanted to know. Something must happen to people who don’t take their pills. Enforcers must apprehend them. They must disappear.”

Questions were not allowed in this society, so the best thing anyone could do when they wanted to find information was to state what they guessed or assumed to be true. Anyone else who had more accurate knowledge could simply correct them by presenting their own statement. There was no need for questions.

“You’re right,” Yixing said. Jongdae held his breath, as if the slightest reaction might give him away and betray what Sehun had done. “Enforcers must detain those who do not adhere to our society’s laws. If they are beyond our help, then there’s nothing we can do.”

“So they disappear,” Jongdae said, “without anyone knowing or realizing.”

“Sure,” Yixing smiled, “But Jongdae, this must mean you know someone who hasn’t been taking their pills. You wouldn’t say this if you didn’t know. I’ve told you what I know, so tell me what you know.”

“No,” Jongdae said too hastily, causing Yixing to tilt his head in interest.

“There _must_ be a name,” Yixing’s lips curled up as he leaned forward. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

“No,” Jongdae shook his head insistently, “There is none. Everyone’s good. Everyone’s happy.”

“I need a name,” Yixing said, “You’re not protecting them by hiding their nature. Your job as a distributor is to ensure everyone stays happy. You’re not doing your job if you let even one person slip through.”

Jongdae still remained silent, twisting his wedding ring around his finger again and again. Oh, he had failed…This wasn’t right. Finding information only lead to more inquiries he didn’t want to answer.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, moving his hand over his phone, “Look at me. I need a name. Or I will look through all your lists myself.”

“Sunyoung,” Jongdae said almost reflexively without feeling even the slightest bad. If it was Sunyoung or Sehun, this was his only choice. “She has been taking her pills, but has suggested to me that she does not wish to take them. I thought I could handle it.”

“I see,” Yixing said, finally relaxing as he leaned back in his chair. He moved his hand away from the phone and placed his hands on his lap. “Thank you for telling me, Jongdae. You were right to be concerned, and it’s good you still convinced her to take her pills, but we’ll keep a closer eye on her now. Let me know if anything changes with her.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, “I will tell you immediately if there’s any difference.”

Jongdae felt nothing as he walked out of Yixing’s office, hearing Yixing call an unknown person to place extra watch on Sunyoung.

As long as Sehun was safe, Jongdae didn’t mind who else was exposed.

 

  

ϟ

 

 

Distributors like Jongdae were trusted with their own personal canisters of pills for their own and their pair’s own daily use. Upper management trusted them enough to avoid sending enforcers to check on them, so as the days passed and Sehun continued to stop taking his pills, Jongdae’s only other worry was how he was supposed to get rid of all the extra pills.

He wasn’t sure how much upper management would be able to trace, so he did not dump the pills down their drains or even bury them in their yard. At first he tried burning them on the stove, but the process had released such a noxious gas that he had stopped immediately.

Now the pills were stashed under a loose tile in the bathroom.

Jongdae almost forgot every day that he had been the one to break regulation and place the extra pills there, some crushed some not, but Sehun reminded him every day. He reminded Jongdae of the missing desks, the missing students, of everything that did not seem quite right. It wasn’t easy all the time for Jongdae to remember, and some days he remembered slower than others. But as long as Jongdae remembered Sehun, he could remember anything and everything at all.

Sehun continued asking, continued prying, and while Jongdae was surprised somehow that no enforcers had been sent after them, he could not help but notice how his co-workers glanced over a little more when Sehun visited Jongdae at work and called him during work hours a little more often than usual.

Yixing noticed, too.

Jongdae gave up more names just in case.

He supposed it wasn’t right when his recipients trusted him, but there was no other way. He had one hundred names on his list, and he would go through all hundred and then some before anyone would suspect Sehun.

Sehun who still insisted on finding out everything.

Sehun who still insisted on skipping his pills.

Sehun who would not give up no matter what this would cost him.

“Jongdae, I need you to find me the girls’ addresses,” Sehun said one night they were reclining together on the sofa after dinner. Gone were the days of reading high school books, the days where their longest topic of discussion was where to spend their weekend, the nights of sleeping easily. Now there was only talk of missing pills, of these missing students, of all the missing information that was kept from them. Jongdae didn’t know if he held onto Sehun now for comfort or to make sure he was still here. “Maybe their parents know something. Or maybe we can help them to remember.”

“When will you stop this?” Jongdae said. Perhaps it was Sehun’s influence, but he didn’t think twice about asking questions now. At least they were home and not in public.

“I’ll stop when they’re home safely,” Sehun said, “No matter what it takes.”

“Do not risk yourself for these girls,” Jongdae said, feeling something stir in his chest, “Just stay home, Sehun. Yixing’s already suspicious. I had to give him other names so he wouldn’t start looking himself.”

“It’s fine,” Sehun waved off Jongdae’s concern, “I’m making progress. I just need to—”

“When did you grow this…this uncaring?” Jongdae asked, adjusting how he was sitting so he could take another look at Sehun, “This is new.”

Sehun still had black hair, soft lips, and the same striking voice that were so familiar. He was still the same, but not.

“Maybe this is the real me,” Sehun shrugged, “A me that the pills tried to hide. But I like this, Jongdae. I’m feeling so much more that I can’t describe. You should try it one day. It’s…overwhelming. But good. And right. And devastatingly wonderful.”

Jongdae tried to imagine what life could be like if he was not happy all the time. Of course the pills could not completely block out the little nuances of emotions he recognized. Like love. But what was life without happiness?

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Jongdae shook his head, “There must be a reason why everyone is kept on these pills. We were meant to be happy. We should be happy. This is how our society is run.”

Sehun looked at him for a moment, a flicker of something crossing his expression. He pressed his lips together as if debating if he should say the next thing before he continued anyways.

“You sound…like everyone else. Jongdae, when you’re off these pills, only then do you realize how...not right this society is. Why do we always say it’s a beautiful day to greet each other? Why must we always say we’re happy? Things are not all right here,” Sehun said.

“Things have always been like this,” Jongdae said. There was a structure every day followed, a pill everyone had to take, an emotion everyone must have. Things had to be all right because this was how everyone functioned and what they based their lives upon. Until Sehun, Jongdae had never heard of these other options. Not taking the pill. Not being happy. Not being good. But this was the least of his concerns.

“You’re missing the point,” Jongdae continued, “I don’t care what we say every day or how we’re supposed to feel. Yixing’s suspicious, and if he’s suspicious, then the enforcers will be looking into everything. I can’t lose you.”

Sehun sighed, his shoulders slumping at last.

“Just find me the addresses, Jongdae. After I talk to their parents, I won’t do anything others wouldn’t do. I won’t ask anyone anything,” Sehun said, “I promise.”

Jongdae gazed at Sehun for a moment, finding the presence of some emotion that was not happiness that he couldn’t quite read in Sehun’s gaze, and sighed before he finally spoke, his answer barely sounding just in case anyone was listening.

“I’ll find them for you,” Jongdae said, “I promise.”

This, too, was a mistake.

 

  

ϟ

 

 

At 8:00 when Jongdae drove to work, he made a choice.

At 9:00, he acted upon that choice.

“Hello, Sunyoung,” Jongdae said on the last stop, the last person, “It’s a beautiful day!”

“Hello, Jongdae. It always is,” Sunyoung said in reply as she opened her door a crack, “It _always_ is.”

Sunyoung attempted to start another conversation with Jongdae that he humored and followed. Eventually he wore her down and of course followed through with the same routine.

“Do I _have_ to,” Sunyoung laughed as Jongdae pulled out his pill canister. There was only one left.

“Of course you _have_ to,” Jongdae said as he reached for Sunyoung’s hand and shook the pill into her hand.

“I don’t _have_ to,” Sunyoung said.

“Have a good one,” Jongdae said, leaving as quickly as he could, not bothering to watch her take her pill.

From his car he could see her freeze, clenching the pill in her hand. He watched a moment longer until she went inside. She did not take the pill.

That morning Jongdae drove to work feeling strange, but it was an emotion he could not exactly understand or didn’t have the words to describe.

Just before lunch break, Jongdae checked the archival rooms instead of sitting at his desk and doing his work. The archives were white rooms that held all the personal information of everyone that ever lived in the city. Before, he wouldn’t have questioned why it was such a small room if there were obviously so many generations, but that was different now. Upper management digitized the records and added restricted information Jongdae wasn’t allowed to access, but at least the paper archives contained names, birth dates.

And addresses.

Jongdae strolled past the sections, looking at the Cs and finally the Ks. One by one by one, he looked through the girls’ files, wrote the names and addresses on his arm with a black pen, and quickly placed the files back before anyone could notice. At least these papers proved they really did exist.

And then he walked back and took out Sunyoung’s file. He stared at her name, her picture. He didn’t feel bad.

Because he knew at 12:00, Yixing would make his rounds around the building to check on everyone and everything. There was no way anyone could pass through here without him knowing, so Jongdae had to find an excuse. Right on cue, the door opened, causing Jongdae to pretend to close the folder quickly and shove it back inside the cabinet drawer.

Yixing stood silently for a moment, watching Jongdae. The edges of his lips stretched upwards higher and higher as he glanced at the cabinet.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said.

“Yixing,” Jongdae smiled.

“You needed something here,” Yixing said, skipping straight to the point.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, attempting to brush past Yixing before he reached out to stop him with a hand.

“Tell me what you needed here,” Yixing said, “upper management will find out one way or another. Telling me is the easiest way.”

Jongdae made a show of pretending to think about it, crossing his arms and scrunching up his face, looking anywhere but Yixing.

“There isn’t much to think about,” Yixing said, “You might be thinking that if you handle this…whatever this is…by yourself, things will be right. But Jongdae, you’re only a distributor. Let me handle what is wrong.”

Jongdae took his time to look at Yixing as if he actually considered what was said. But there was only one thing, one person on Jongdae’s mind, and Yixing was very wrong.

“It’s Sunyoung,” Jongdae said, pretending he had to think a little more before he gave up the name.

“I knew it,” Yixing shook his head, “I should have sent more people to check up on her earlier.”

“I did tell you earlier about this,” Jongdae shrugged, “But she’s the same. Today she refused to take the pill. I had no choice but to leave if I did not want to be late for work here.”

“You didn’t call the enforcers,” Yixing said.

“It was only one day without the pill. It’s only been a few hours,” Jongdae said.

Standard protocol demanded that enforcement was called when deviance from normal behavior occurred. But they never specified when was the time to call anyways. Immediately? An hour after? Days after? Weeks after?

“You don’t know what happens when you don’t take the pill,” Yixing said, lowering his voice as he took a step closer. Behind them, their co-workers crowded around the clear door, looking at each other and wondering what they were doing, what they were talking about. If Jongdae didn’t know better, he would’ve said they all weren’t happy because it was impossible to say they were minding their own business. Yixing seemed to notice the company and moved backwards before readjusting his smile to make sure it was still on properly.

Jongdae thought about Sehun, how different, how almost unrecognizable he had become. But that didn’t matter. Sehun was still Sehun, and Jongdae would die before he would let anything happen to him.

“No, I don’t,” Jongdae said, “I don’t know what happens to a person when they’re off the pill. I don’t know how they can feel anything except overwhelming happiness. I don’t understand it at all.”

“Now we have to fix so much,” Yixing said, shaking his head and sighing, “I’ll have to call the enforcers. The next time something like this happens, do not handle it by yourself. You were good to be concerned, but do not make me find out again. When something is wrong, tell me immediately.”

“Yes. Naturally,” Jongdae said. Yixing nodded, beginning to walk away before Jongdae’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“Something will happen to Sunyoung,” Jongdae said, trying to make his tone as minimally inquisitive as possible. He had to know what would happen to Sehun if he failed to protect him.

“She’ll be back,” Yixing said, “If it’s only been one day, I have hopes she will be rehabilitated properly. Do not worry.”

Jongdae had more to say, more to understand, but he let the questions die on his tongue, unsaid, unshed, because he was not allowed to ask.

“Have a good one,” Yixing said, turning around to wave with a smile before pushing the glass doors open, dispersing the crowded masses that quickly fled after there was nothing left to watch.

Jongdae watched everyone leave until he himself exited the archival rooms. For the rest of the day, he struggled not to clasp his arm because of what he knew was written on his skin and hidden by just a mere piece of fabric. What if people knew something was wrong? What if they knew Jongdae had taken other information from the archives? What if they lifted up his sleeve? What if they saw what information he stole? What if they saw the black words scribbled on his arm? What if? What?

When he came home, he wordlessly sat down on the dining table as Sehun greeted him cheerfully.

“What’s wrong,” Sehun said, his expression dropping as Jongdae opened his mouth to respond. But nothing sounded, so Sehun quickly pulled up a chair next to him before asking again.

“You promised,” Jongdae said in a hushed tone, looking around the walls of their kitchen as if anyone was here listening in. “You promised that you would take a break from this after we talked to their parents. Right?”

“I did,” Sehun nodded, “I will.”

Jongdae looked at Sehun, memorizing this one moment, gazing at his black hair with that one little strand that would not stay put no matter how much gel he used, his lips that looked softer than anything Jongdae ever knew or touched, his hands that reached out to hold him. Sehun was. So alive. So beautiful.

Jongdae nodded in reply, dropping his gaze to his arm as he slowly pulled up his sleeve.

The numbers and words were still there, slightly smudged from how fast he had pushed his sleeve down again after he had written everything Sehun needed.

Sehun wordlessly stared at the numbers, the letters before he traced the information with his finger for a while. Jongdae stayed silent, letting Sehun touch whatever he wanted.

“Thank you,” Sehun said, a smile bursting forth on his face, “Thank you, Jongdae.”

Jongdae could not help but let out a genuine laugh and rushed to press a kiss to Sehun’s cheek.

If Sehun didn’t need the pills to be happy, then why did everyone else?

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“This is a bad idea,” Jongdae whispered to Sehun as they stood in front of the house of the first student.

“We’ll never know what will happen until it happens,” Sehun said before the door swung open and a woman greeted them warmly.

“Hello! It’s a beautiful day today!” she beamed.

“Hello!” Sehun said, snapping a smile to his face. Jongdae loved how easily Sehun smiled even without the pills.

“You must need something if you’re here,” the woman said, “I have cookies baking and a pie cooling on the rack if you would like some. I’ve lately been finding myself baking nowadays with no one to eat everything.”

“Yoojung liked your baking,” Sehun said, causing Jongdae to quickly look around in case anyone was listening in or looking at them, “That’s why you bake, Mrs. Choi. You bake for her.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone by that name,” Mrs. Choi shook her head but still remained smiling, “But if she would like some cookies or anything, I’d be happy to send her them.”

“Yoojung is your daughter. You have to remember her,” Sehun said, taking a step forwards, the edges of his toes grazing the bottom of the doorframe.

“I don’t think that’s right,” Mrs. Choi shook her head again, “My pair and I have no children. But if you’re referring to our dog, her name is—”

“You have a daughter who is missing,” Sehun pressed, “You don’t remember her because the pills erase your memory, but-"

Mrs. Choi stared for a moment, a moment where Jongdae prepared to subdue her by all means necessary were she to scream or do _something_. But after the moment passed, she threw her head back and laughed, her perfectly styled curls bouncing at her shoulders.

“That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard,” she said between loud laughing, “Do tell me more.”

Sehun seemed a little caught off guard by the laughing, but continued nonetheless.

“Well, she’s a very bright student even if she has a tendency to fall asleep in class. She wanted to be a librarian like a couple other classmates, but those don’t exist anymore,” Sehun slowly said.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Choi said, clutching her stomach as tears spilled down her face, “It’s so funny it made me cry! Say more!”

“She is friends with Kim Doyeon and Kim Yeri. Maybe you’ve seen them around, too,” Sehun said, “For her in-class poem she wrote about you and your husband. She described you two as warmer than the sun we see every day.”

“That’s…that’s,” Mrs. Choi said, her shoulders shaking from laughter, tears continuing to run down her face, erasing traces off of her makeup.

“You remember her, don’t you?” Sehun said.

“No. Of course not,” Mrs. Choi stretched her lips and bared her teeth, “But thank you for the laugh.”

Suddenly, an alarm began blaring from within the house.

“Those are my cookies. I have to go. Everything’s good! I’m happy!” she said before slamming the door in their faces.

“Maybe the next house will be better?” Sehun said to Jongdae, still staring at the shut door.

It wasn’t.

Because five minutes into their visit with Mrs. Kim, Doyeon’s mother, Jongdae had already considered all the things that were not allowed that he would have to do in order to get Sehun out of there safely. All Sehun had done was mention that Mrs. Kim had a daughter a few times, and then this. And then _this_.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Kim said, standing up quickly, but still smiling, “I _don’t_ have a daughter.”

“You do,” Sehun said, rummaging in his bag to pull out papers, “Her name is—”

“Get out,” she said taking a step forwards into Sehun’s space.

“Her name is—” Sehun tried again.

“Get out,” she said, pushing him back, causing Jongdae to quickly step in between them, one hand placed on Sehun’s chest, the other reached out to push the woman further away from him.

“Please just _listen_ ,” Sehun said even now, “You have a daughter, and you’ll _remember_ her.” Jongdae slowly turned his head away from Mrs. Kim to Sehun and silently observed his clenched jaw, his strong eyes. Would he be like this too if he didn’t take the pill, or was this all Sehun, all what the pill wanted him to forget?

“I will call the enforcers,” Mrs. Kim said with a smile, “and you will be—”

“There is no need for that,” Jongdae loudly interrupted, spinning around to raise both hands disarmingly at Mrs. Kim, one hand slowly slipping into his pocket to pull out his distribution license, the other still raised out. “I am a distributor, and if you call the enforcers, I will have them take you instead. There is no need to be alarmed. Everything is good and right and how it should be.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun whispered. He lowered his head, lips hovering near Jongdae’s ear to speak. His breath tickled Jongdae’s skin and caused him to shiver slightly.

“Not now,” Jongdae whispered through a wide smile.

The woman looked at them, her forcefulness melting into something else, an emotion Jongdae couldn’t quite recognize because it was not happiness.

“Then go,” she said, fingers shaking as she pointed to the door, “I don’t have a daughter, and I will not be taken by the enforcers.”

Jongdae took that as their cue and grabbed Sehun before rushing out the door.

“What if she actually calls,” Jongdae said as soon as they walked to their car. He looked back several times. Sure enough, Mrs. Kim watched from the window, but when she saw Jongdae staring, she dropped her hand, causing the curtain to fall back. Her shadowy silhouette was still visible behind the thin, wispy white curtain.

“She won’t. It’s fine, Jongdae,” Sehun said, looking forwards never backwards, “Don’t worry.”

“We’ll never know if she calls or not,” Jongdae said, letting Sehun fish the car keys from his pocket, “We’ll never know until one day they’ll knock down our door and take you from me.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, placing his hand on top of Jongdae’s clenched fists, “Nothing can or will take you from me. I’m fine. Did you see how she looked when you mentioned you would call them on her? We’ll be fine.”

Jongdae fell silent for a moment, and satisfied, Sehun turned on the engine and began driving at an acceptable speed. This was the type of speed that did not blur the outside view because speeding was prohibited, so Jongdae looked outside at the perfectly trimmed hedges, the beautiful blue sky, the perpetually bright sun before speaking again.

“You have to take the pill tomorrow then,” Jongdae said, “I don’t want anyone else to be suspicious.”

“What?” Sehun said, tearing his gaze away from the road for a moment to stare at Jongdae, “That’s impossible. I know too many things I can’t forget.”

“It’s too dangerous, Sehun. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Jongdae said as they slowed down to a stop at the red light. Another car pulled up beside Jongdae and grinned, mouthing something Jongdae couldn’t hear. It was probably something about the beautiful day. It always was.

“But they’re my students,” Sehun said, turning to smile at the car beside them like nothing was wrong, “So I have to find them and bring them back home.”

“Can’t we just tell someone else about it? This can be something upper management can look into,” Jongdae said, “I’m sure that—”

“What if this is happening because of upper management?” Sehun said, stepping on the pedal when the light turned green.

“I work for upper management,” Jongdae said, “If there was something wrong, I would know.”

“Would you be able to know even if it was right in front of you? You’re still taking the pills,” Sehun said. Jongdae thought for a moment, thought about everything at work, remembered how he saw enforcers every day outside the building and how occasionally they were told not to mind the screaming behind the closed doors. Somehow it seemed less normal now as he thought more.

“I guess you’re right,” Jongdae said, “But I can’t not take them like you. Someone has to keep taking them, Sehun. They’ll be too suspicious if both of us aren’t on pills.”

“They’ll never know. It’s all good,” Sehun said, “No one’s treated me or looked at me any different.”

“But you are,” Jongdae said, a little softer. He noticed something different in Sehun’s countenance today but still could not look away even now.

Sehun didn’t hear him and safely parked while they reached the last house.

Jongdae didn’t mind anyways, reaching out to hold Sehun’s hand as they walked up the driveway.

On the first ring of the doorbell, there was no answer. Sehun took a deep breath and rang the bell twice in a row this time. Jongdae took a deep breath for a different reason.

“Let’s just go,” Jongdae said after the third doorbell. He moved to tug Sehun’s sleeve back, but Sehun remained staying, remained standing. Soon enough, the door slowly opened up just a crack to reveal an eye and then half of a face.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Ms. Kim said, “But I’ve already taken my pill.” Her lips stretched wider and wider as she clutched the door and stared at Sehun and Jongdae with unusually wide eyes, “You don’t need anything from me.”

“It’s not that,” Jongdae tried to reassure the woman as he raised his empty hands up, “We just have a few things to say.”

“I’ve done nothing. Everything is all good here,” Ms. Kim shook her head.

“You’re not in trouble. Please don’t worry,” Jongdae said.

“We promise you’ll want to hear this,” Sehun finally spoke up, moving forwards to stare at Ms. Kim through the cracks of the door, “You’ll really want to hear this.”

The woman stared back at Sehun for a moment more before slamming the door shut. The chains and locks jangled and clicked before the door opened fully.

“Just stand right there,” Ms. Kim said, “Tell me what you need, and go.”

Jongdae and Sehun exchanged a very long look before Sehun turned and spoke.

“You remember your daughter,” Sehun cautiously asked.

“I don’t have a daughter,” Ms. Kim said in a lovely way, though her expression was still cheerful, still bright.

“Yes you do,” Sehun said, “I taught her myself in school. She wanted to be—”

“Don’t speak nonsense,” Ms. Kim said, though she began blinking rapidly, “I don’t have a daughter.”

“Her name is Yerim. You call her Yeri. She likes the color red, so all her notebooks, her pencils, and her backpack were all red. You _have_ to remember this,” Sehun said.

“You sound like you haven’t taken your pill today,” Ms. Kim said, “I should call the enforcers.”

“Don’t,” Jongdae quickly spoke again, “ _Don’t_. You won’t like what will happen if you do.”

He meant it. Sehun could run around doing all of this and Jongdae was happy enough to follow him, but if anything happened to Sehun, then Jongdae didn’t care how many rules he would have to break to make sure Sehun was safe. But he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and looked back to see Sehun shake his head slightly. Perhaps this was what the pills wanted to stop. Or perhaps this was a symptom of withdrawal from the pills. Jongdae didn’t have enough time to think before the hand on his shoulder fell.

“Just look at this,” Sehun said, pulling out some papers from his bag, “They were your daughter’s work. She always made sure to write in print even though she preferred cursive because she was scared no one could understand what she wanted to say.”

Ms. Kim glanced at Jongdae who did not hesitate to look as meaningful as possible even with a smile on his face, and slowly reached out to take the papers.

“This is an essay she wrote about a book we read in class,” Sehun said, handing her the first paper before sorting through the rest, “This is her math test she received a ninety-nine percent on. You were probably happy when she showed you.”

Ms. Kim looked through the papers, her smile starting to droop from her face.

“This is your signature on her progress report. Even if you don’t remember, your daughter exists,” Sehun said as he handed her the last paper.

Ms. Kim stared at all the papers in silence, fingers reaching out to touch her own name, her own signature first before tracing her daughter’s handwriting. Within moments, Yeri’s name became dampened and blurred from the tears that fell. Everyone insisted that tears only came from happiness, but Jongdae wasn’t so sure anymore.

Ms. Kim slowly looked up to face Sehun, her grasp on the papers growing tighter and tighter and tighter. She breathed for moment, as if her silence wordlessly asked if this was a joke, if this was something he made up. But Sehun only looked back unwaveringly, so Ms. Kim brushed back a stray tear before speaking.

“I have a daughter,” she said as calmly and clearly as she could, “Oh, God…What type of a mother am I if I can’t even remember my own? Her name is Yerim, but I call her Yeri. Right? She doesn’t like eating tomatoes even if they’re red, so I have to make her a separate salad whenever she wants. She is so smart…the smartest, and sometimes I can’t even keep up with her when she’s explaining some math theorem you must have taught her. She likes to bike, and I…I can’t understand why I couldn’t remember her. Where is she? She must be hiding somewhere because she can’t be dead.”

Jongdae let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. At least if Sehun ever left him, Jongdae would always remember no matter what type of pills he took. His life was routine. Normal. Average like everyone else’s. But Sehun colored the whiteness of the building Jongdae worked at, burned himself so deeply into Jongdae’s memories that he could never remember a time when they were apart, when he wasn’t on his mind after they had met.

“That’s what we’re trying to understand,” Sehun said, smiling despite the situation, “I don’t know what’s happened to your daughter, but she’s gone missing. Do you remember anything that happened? The last time you saw her?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Ms. Kim said, causing Jongdae to tense up, but he relaxed only slightly after she continued speaking, “But how do you expect me to tell you anything useful if I only just remembered I had a daughter?”

“Surely you must remember something…Anything at all,” Sehun said, “If you think hard enough, maybe you can remember why she disappeared. Maybe you even remember the last time she was home. Did she ever come back from school one day? Did she ever go to school?”

Ms. Kim pressed her fingers to her head and looked up somewhere above Sehun’s gaze and tried to remember.

“I’m sorry but there’s only a blur,” she said, pressing her fingers harder into her skin, “She only went to and from school, and always spent time with her friends. Oh, I’ve forgotten their names, too.”

“Yoojung and Doyeon?” Sehun asked.

“Yes! Yes that’s it…that’s them,” Ms. Kim said, “I haven’t seen them in a while though. Even before…Yeri went missing. She came home without them both a lot more often than before. Are they all right?”

Sehun and Jongdae looked at each other, and Jongdae felt like he had felt the first time he realized something was deeply and truly not normal.

“I don’t think so, but we’ll find them,” Sehun said, “I promise.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sehun kept his promise.

To Jongdae first.

True to his word, he laid low, didn’t look where he was not supposed to look, didn’t say what he wasn’t supposed to say, didn’t act how he was not supposed to act, did not ask like he was not supposed to ask.

But he still insisted on skipping his pills.

“I need to remember all of this,” Sehun said, tapping his head as he sat around with Jongdae one Sunday afternoon.

“What type of a distributor am I if I can’t even distribute to my pair,” Jongdae chuckled. He had grown used to it anyways. Sehun seemed as happy as normal, he still smiled the same, laughed all the same. So this couldn’t be wrong.

“The best,” Sehun said, “You make me the happiest even without the pills after all.”

There was no harm done. Things were still fine.

Things continued to be good and beautiful and right, so Jongdae started to forget more and more of the potential threat they faced. The two of them visited the beach again, went to Sehun’s favorite restaurant that Jongdae called to make reservations ahead of time again, and more nights were spent laying on the couch while Sehun read some books out loud until he grew tired and it was Jongdae’s turn to hum to him as loud as he dared. There was nothing Jongdae loved more than spending time with Sehun, and now, he felt as if things had finally fallen into place again.

But of course things could not be all right.

Especially in this society that operated on who was happy and who was not.

Because one day when Jongdae opened a letter during the early night, what was waiting for them caused his mind to be erased of all thought.

 

 

 

 

 

MEDICAL SUMMONS:  
KIM JONGDAE AND OH SEHUN  
HAPPINESS TESTING

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jongdae stared at the medical summons one more time before he clenched the paper in his fist, slightly distorting the words. Suddenly it was as if his heart had stopped and everything he did and did not want to say choked him. Any other distributor or enforcer looking at him would have suspected nothing, though, as he made sure to keep his expression controlled, maybe just barely so, with his lips still frozen in a smile like everyone always needed to present.

This was it.

Someone had found out. Yixing. Other enforcers. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Nevertheless, there was no way Sehun would be able to successfully pass his medical examinations without anyone realizing that something was _wrong_ , that he had not taken his pills in so long.

With his heart slamming against his chest and his pulse climbing into his throat, Jongdae turned to Sehun as his mouth dropped open. Nothing still sounded.

Sehun immediately leaned in closer, already asking what was wrong, what had happened. But Jongdae still could not even utter a single word, his fist closing tighter and tighter around the paper until the message became incomprehensible. Sehun noticed the paper, gently pried open Jongdae’s fingers before lifting it to his lap and smoothing out the wrinkles. It didn’t take him very long to read the message, and Jongdae watched as Sehun blankly blinked. He made no sign to show he thought about what he had read, save for a quick clench of his jaw.

“This is fine,” Sehun finally said, turning to Jongdae again with a quick smile, “This is good. Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will be—”

“ _Sehun_ ,” Jongdae said at last, exhaling deeply, “They know. They have to know.”

“If they knew,” Sehun said, letting the paper fall from his hand to the table in front of them before placing his hand on Jongdae’s knee and squeezing it reassuringly, “then we both know I wouldn’t be here. Those enforcers would have already taken me away. And look. I’m still here, right?”

Jongdae nodded, almost wanting to rub his eyes to make sure this wasn’t a dream, a nightmare, something in between.

“This is good,” Sehun slowly said again, leaning back into the sofa as he looked up at the blank ceiling, “Jongdae, this is our chance.”

“No,” Jongdae sharply said, “This is not the time to be thinking of those girls. Once they examine you, they’ll suspect something, and it’ll be over. Think of yourself first.”

“Jongdae, just forget me for a moment,” Sehun said, holding up a hand to stop Jongdae before he could tell him he _couldn’t_ , “We’ve just been given a big opportunity to do something. When we go to take our medical examinations, we can explore what they keep there and find out what happened. What if they’re there? What if they’re being kept there for further testing?”

“The price,” Jongdae said, eyes flashing, feeling a burst of emotion, like the happiness he had been so accustomed to had been sharpened and set aflame, “is too high. I can’t let you risk yourself.”

“Let’s assume they suspect me,” Sehun said, “Then what?”

Then Jongdae would do everything in his power to ward off suspicion no matter how many names he would give up, no matter how many enforcers he would have to fight off, no matter how many people would be traded in return for Sehun. Then Jongdae would tear his own work building apart until someone from upper management would pardon Sehun. Jongdae would die before he let Sehun go.

“Don’t say that,” Jongdae shook his head instead, “We’ll figure something out.”

“Then…” Sehun continued onwards, “Maybe the enforcers will take me. Maybe I’ll be force fed pills until I’m like how they want me again. Maybe not. Maybe they’ll do something else to me, something I can’t even describe. Maybe not. But one day I know they’ll have to return me to you. Pairs are pairs. We cannot be apart. We were not made to be alone.”

“Are you sure,” Jongdae said, lowering his voice even though no one for miles could hear them, “Even after all that you’ve seen, you’re so sure that this society would just…let you _go_ if you’re not like everyone else, if you don’t take your pills.”

“I don’t know,” Sehun said, turning at last to look at Jongdae, “But you work for them, right? So they can’t all be that bad. And doing bad things to me wouldn’t make anyone happy. I’m sure.”

“I’m not sure anymore,” Jongdae said, thinking of all those odd moments in his building again. The attendant’s missing pair. The screaming that he wasn’t supposed to mind. He never questioned them before, but the more he thought, the more he was forced to think of them. And now, he was not sure of anything anymore. There was a feeling stirring in his chest, feeding on Jongdae’s hesitation. It was so late at night the pills had begun to wear off so there was nothing that could be done, no more artificial happiness to lean against. Jongdae welcomed the overwhelming new emotion with a deep breath.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Sehun shrugged, “One day we have to show up at the medical building, so we might as well make the best of it—”

“Let’s go,” Jongdae said suddenly, “Let’s go away.”

“Where?” Sehun said, “I don’t think there’s anything out there. No one’s been out there. There’s only trees.”

No one ever ventured into the forest that surrounded the city because that was not a thing anyone ever did. Jongdae wasn’t sure what would be the punishment for even lingering near one of those tall trees, but surely if he and Sehun were to get lost in the woods, no one would be able to find them there.

“Let’s live in the forest,” Jongdae said, “I’m sure we can survive.”

Sehun laughed, and it was like the golden sun had erupted onto his features, radiating light and inspiring love. The sun that perpetually shined until night fell suddenly seemed so dim in comparison.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, arms reaching out towards him, “Oh, Jongdae…We can’t live like that. We’ll probably—”

“But you’ve been living without the pills,” Jongdae said, trying his best to push Sehun off of him. They were having a serious discussion. “If you can live like that, then I’m sure you can live anywhere.”

But Sehun was Sehun, and he always got what he wanted. So Jongdae relented, letting Sehun lean sideways to snake his hands around his waist and press his head to Jongdae’s chest. Sehun tilted his head up, gazing at Jongdae for a moment, and Jongdae swore something had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart so tight he almost couldn’t breathe.

“There are no stoves in the wilderness, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “There’s no way we can survive. Maybe this medical examination won’t be so bad…At least we’ll get a chance to sneak around, okay? Let’s see what we find. Please? I promised their mothers I’d find them.”

Jongdae bit down his first reaction, swallowed the words of how he wanted to say that Sehun promised him first he would stay safe. But they had been staying safe, Sehun had been blending in well. Until now. Maybe there was nothing he could do.

Jongdae didn’t say anything, didn’t agree or disagree to anything, because once the medical summons was sent, there was nothing anyone could do except obey.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

The medical center was located deep underneath Jongdae’s work building and was placed lower than the underground level Jongdae drove through every day to pick up his pills, lower than the underground parking structures that were reserved for higher ranked members of upper management, and lower than any other level Jongdae had ever visited.

There was a glass elevator that transported people up and down those lower floors, and as Jongdae and Sehun stepped inside it, transparent doors shutting and the cage beginning to move downwards, Jongdae could not help but feel unsettled by the white abyss that was present underneath their feet. Lights illuminated the way down, and it was still unknown how far below ground the path stretched.

Once the elevator finally stopped and the doors opened with a pleasant ding, Jongdae and Sehun stepped out onto the medical floor. There was nothing dark about this underground section of the building at all. Lights brighter than Jongdae was used to flooded the center, chasing away any shadows and exposing everything. Walls whiter than the walls Jongdae worked between framed the hallway, stretching out for who knew how long. Around them walked nurses and attendants wearing white uniforms that seemed to have been meticulously ironed. Jongdae looked at the ground for a moment to rest his eyes from the blinding white. But it didn’t help much because the polished floors reflected the lights suspended above.

“Everyone is happy here,” Sehun softly said to Jongdae as he smiled in greeting to some cheerful nurses who passed by.

“I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Jongdae said out of the corner of his grinning mouth.

“Happy people don’t hurt others,” Sehun whispered, “I think we’ll be fine.”

“ _You_ need to be fine,” Jongdae said. He had nothing to worry about because he took his pills, never skipped a day, so he was happy after all. But Sehun…he didn’t know how Sehun was supposed to pass a medical examination. Physical happiness could be faked. Jongdae knew that now after he saw how Sehun so easily fooled everyone around him. But medical tests could not be forged, and what was in Sehun’s blood could not be changed.

After walking down the bright hallway, they found the receptionist area, and taking a deep breath, Jongdae walked up to the curved counter and placed his hands hesitantly on the edges.

“Hello!” the receptionist said as he stood up from his desk to greet them, “Please wait right here by the chairs until it is your time to go.”

“We never told you our names,” Sehun said, trying to keep his voice unquestioning and his tone cheerful, “But you still know us.”

“Of course!” the man grinned, “We know everyone here. You’re Kim Jongdae and Oh Sehun, and you have a medical examination scheduled.”

“Okay! Thank you!” Jongdae said before tugging down Sehun to sit next to him. The receptionist watched them for a moment too long before sitting down and mechanically resuming his typing. Jongdae didn’t know what he could possibly be working on because there was only a blank white screen on the computer, but he didn’t ask. He couldn’t ask.

For a while, the two of them sat in silence, observing nurses who continued to routinely pass by them, walking two by two, marching along. If they noticed Jongdae and Sehun, they waved and smiled. Occasionally, Jongdae heard screaming that seemed to echo everywhere.

“Do not mind the screaming,” the receptionist would say whenever a scream sounded without looking at them, “that is completely normal, and we assure you our patients are happy.”

“Of course,” Jongdae said back. Sehun threw Jongdae a look that would have caused the nurses to take him away immediately. Luckily he didn’t say anything.

But after a while of waiting, Jongdae’s racing heart calmed down. Nothing had happened. No enforcers had shown up, no doctor had even come out to announce the beginning of the end.

“It’s not time yet,” Sehun slightly raised his voice to get the receptionist’s attention, as if reading Jongdae’s thoughts.

“We will call you when it is time for you to go,” the receptionist said as he stood up, smiling and standing for a second longer before sitting down and resuming typing on his blank screen.

“Sehun,” Jongdae turned to smile at him, though his eyes screamed at him to _stop_ , to not push their _luck_.

“Jongdae,” Sehun repeated, though said Jongdae’s name in a much sweeter way. Jongdae gave him another look, this time a softer one, before resuming staring at the blank walls in front of them.

The two of them waited for a while longer in silence until a nurse approached. Dressed in all white just like everyone else, she kept her hands folded together and her smile carefully presented.

“It is time for you to go,” she said, beckoning them to come closer. Wordlessly, Jongdae stood up and reached for Sehun’s hand as they followed the nurse through the hallways.

Jongdae kept his eyes forward, making sure they didn’t lose the nurse while Sehun opted to turn his head occasionally and look down the hallways, to peer into the doorways they walked past. Their hands were already held firmly together, but with every step Jongdae took, he gripped Sehun’s hand even tighter. Every time they walked under one of the lights hung from the hallway ceiling, Jongdae found it a little harder to breathe, feeling uncomfortable with the way his body was completely illuminated for a moment.

Finally, the nurse led them into a room where she told them to wait with a smile.

Sehun strode inside, not minding the door that shut a little too forcefully behind them. Jongdae could not bring himself to step any deeper inside the room to sit in the chairs next to the solitary table, preferring to stand next to the door. He examined the walls, lightly touching the smooth, white surface before pressing into them harder. He gave up after finding no secret passage, no hidden meaning in the blank walls, no possible other exit.

“Come here,” Sehun called to him, “What if the doctor opens the door and hits you with it?”

“It’s safer here. You can escape quickly,” Jongdae said, leaning his back against the door.

“They’ll know something is wrong faster if you stay there,” Sehun said before stretching out his arm towards him, “Come, Jongdae. Sit with me.”

Jongdae hesitantly took a step forwards and began walking until he reached out and clasped Sehun’s hand, sighing as he gave in and sat. There was only one other chair that was placed across them on the other side of the metal table. But that did not mean more people would not come into the room and rush inside to take Sehun at any moment.

“Don’t do anything they wouldn’t like,” Jongdae said, staring around the room, looking for any sign of a window, another door just in case. But there was nothing, no windows, and only that single door.

“What do you _mean_ anything they wouldn’t like,” Sehun said, “I’m acting perfectly fine?”

“No you’re _not_ ,” Jongdae harshly whispered, “You’re not even _smiling_.”

“No one’s supposed to be smiling all the time,” Sehun said.

“Yes we _are_ ,” Jongdae shook his head, “That’s how they know something’s not right—”

But suddenly the door opened, and Jongdae and Sehun fell silent, snapping their necks around and gazing at the person who entered.

“Hello,” both of them said, sliding smiles onto their faces, “It’s a beautiful day!”

“Yes it is!” the doctor beamed as she took a seat on the chair in front of them. She folded her hands on the table as she stared at them, suddenly appearing as if she had been frozen. Jongdae stared back with a reflexive smile, but for a while, no one said anything. Jongdae could feel Sehun’s eyes on him before Sehun spoke up.

“This is our medical examination,” Sehun carefully said. Now was especially not the time to ask any questions or raise suspicions.

“Yes,” the doctor nodded after three seconds more of silence, “I’m observing you now. You both have very natural smiles.”

“We’re supposed to smile naturally,” Jongdae said, recalling what he had been taught in distribution training, “Everyone does.”

“Of course,” the doctor said, staring at them a moment longer before speaking again, “You’ll have to forgive me for asking questions, but as part of the medical examination, questions are allowed to ensure full data is easily obtained as quickly as possible.”

“I thought only upper management had clearance to ask questions,” Jongdae said. Asking questions in public? This was unheard of to him no matter the circumstance they were in.

“Sure,” the doctor smiled before turning to them, “How is your bond? You’re pairs? You’re happy together.”

“Sehun’s perfect,” Jongdae said, smiling more easily than he had done and relaxing into the conversation. If this was the examination, then there was nothing to be worried about. This was easy. This was Sehun, after all. “He makes me so happy all the time, and honestly it was a good thing we were officially declared pairs, but I wouldn’t have cared anyways if we were not. Pairs or not, my connection with Sehun has easily made my life.”

Sehun squeezed Jongdae’s hand and his gaze softened before he spoke.

“Jongdae’s more perfect than me,” Sehun told the doctor who held out a clipboard to write with and began scribbling notes, “Everyone in this society is happy, but Jongdae makes me feel the happiest. The luckiest. He takes care of me so well, and while it’s too bad we have to be apart during the day when we work, there’s no other time I look forward to more than that hour of the day when I hear his keys jingle in the door signaling that he’s home. He’s back.”

“So you two don’t fight,” the doctor said.

“Of course there are little squabbles here and there,” Sehun said, and suddenly Jongdae remembered their most recent conversations. He hoped they would not be asked about that. “But of course that’s normal for everyone.”

“Sure,” the doctor smiled.

Jongdae didn’t know if they had been saying the right things so far, as they continued to talk about their pair bond without any sign of abnormalities, but after a while, he had eased completely into the conversation, and no enforcers had shown up to take them away. So this was. Fine. They could survive this.

“We must be done now,” Jongdae said, eager to take Sehun home if nothing was wrong. It felt more than an interview, a chance for Jongdae to lovingly talk all about Sehun, than a medical examination session.

“Sorry,” the doctor said, “this was just the oral test. Your medical examinations are separate. Jongdae, you can go first. Sehun, please wait outside.”

Jongdae turned to look at Sehun with a carefully masked expression, but Sehun knew him, so he _knew_. Oh, he knew, could sense the unhappiness radiating off of Jongdae’s clenched fists, see some unknown feeling trapped in his gaze. And for someone who was facing a potential failed medical exam, Sehun seemed calmer than Jongdae, reaching out to comfort him first.

“You’ll be good,” Sehun said, slipping his hand out of Jongdae’s grasp before squeezing his shoulders as he stood up, “We’ll be fine.”

Jongdae reached out to grab Sehun’s hand again because he didn’t want to let go.

“Sorry, no one else is allowed to witness the medical examinations. He needs to go. Let him go, Jongdae,” the doctor sweetly said. But there was something dangerous in her gaze, something that made Jongdae want to hold on tighter rather than listen.

Sehun glanced at the doctor once before exhaling as he turned to Jongdae.

“It’ll be fine,” Sehun said, “I’ll just be out there, Jongdae. You’re the one going first anyways. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Jongdae breathed, and slowly relaxed his hand enough so their hands could be torn apart.

“Good! I’ll call you when it’s your turn,” the doctor smiled as Sehun walked towards the door. The last thing Jongdae saw before the door closed was a glimpse of Sehun’s black hair that stood out among the white walls.

“Jongdae,” the doctor said, and Jongdae reluctantly turned his head back to face her, “I will say a few statements, and you will correct me if I am wrong. If you have to think about these questions, if you hesitate, or if it takes more than a second for you to answer, then, well. I will know.”

The doctor did not need to explain what she meant for Jongdae to know, too.

“You have been taking your pills every day,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. He was a distributor after all, and distributors were meant to be a good model, the best example.

“You show up to work on time and do what is asked of you,” the doctor continued on, never looking away from Jongdae as she recited her statements.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, remembering all the times he had crawled out of bed regardless of whether he wanted to or not, whether he was ready or not, because he didn’t want to be late for work.

“You love Sehun,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. Always. Forever.

“You are good,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. Always, Forever.

“You are happy,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. Always Forever.

He wished that his smile were as bright as he was trying to make it.

The doctor studied Jongdae’s countenance for a moment too long before writing something down. Jongdae wasn’t worried as he waited silently. He had taken his pills properly after all.

“You’re almost good to go, Jongdae,” the doctor said, smiling at last, “You appear very happy. There is nothing wrong with you, and all that’s left is to confirm what I suspect with a blood test. It is impossible for your blood to lie after all.”

Jongdae quickly looked up, clenching his fists as an outlet for all the emotion he could not and did not want to show. He dropped his gaze to all the needles, the cotton, the tubes the doctor began pulling out. Oh no. Dopamine was something that could not be faked. It was in his blood. Sehun could lie as much as he wanted to the doctor, could pass the interview, but this?

“Relax. This won’t hurt. Much,” the doctor said, hands reaching out to Jongdae after wiping his skin with a sterilizing wipe. Jongdae couldn’t find it within himself to even move, so the doctor dragged his arm towards her and pulled the sleeve up his arm for him.

Jongdae felt a sharp sting and was unsure of why the doctor suddenly pulled out the needle instead of plunging it deeper.

“First, we numb your arm so you don’t feel pain,” the doctor said as she pulled out a second needle, “because pain makes people unhappy. Then, we take your blood without you feeling a thing.”

Jongdae did not bother to question the routine and simply breathed, pressing his lips together as the doctor poked around his arm with her needle. Either Jongdae’s veins were hard to find, or the doctor was not good at finding them. Or she wanted to poke him like this. Again. And again. And again. Until she finally found Jongdae’s vein and took his blood. Jongdae focused on the dark blood that began filling the tube because if he looked anywhere else, if he even glanced at the doctor, he was sure she would know what he was thinking. Who he was thinking of. The doctor routinely switched out tube after tube after tube until three sealed tubes with his blood laid on the metal tray next to her.

So this was how they could tell if someone was happy or not. People must have lied more often than he thought. Happiness could be so easily faked; all it took was one pill a day, and everyone could think that they, like Sehun, were safe. Perhaps happiness deficiencies were more common than Jongdae realized, and he was lucky he had Sehun so he didn’t have to fake anything or tell real lies.

He couldn’t imagine not being happy.

“Call Sehun in now. You can go,” the doctor said, taping a cotton ball to Jongdae’s arm to slow the bleeding.

Jongdae looked up, fighting to control his expression as he thought of what could happen, what possibly would happen. Sehun. Oh, Sehun. What would they do to him?

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, and as he stood up, he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide that they were shaking.

But when Jongdae opened the door, turning his neck left and right, Sehun was nowhere to be seen. Gone. With his heartbeat strangling his throat, Jongdae silently closed the door behind him and looked longer. Sehun couldn’t have been taken already, right? He hadn’t even had his medical examination yet. They couldn’t have known already, right? Right?

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, taking a step forwards as he looked down the empty hallways.

“Sehun?” Jongdae called out a little louder, something sliding into his heart and tearing his chest apart. He recalled what little they learned of other emotions from school, those other emotions that were inferior to happiness and therefore not supposed to be felt. None of them were named, but surely what Jongdae was feeling now could not be happiness. He didn’t like this feeling, and he could not understand why he felt like this if he had taken his pill this morning.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said a little louder, walking a little faster. When no one responded, Jongdae didn’t stop to think, running wildly down the halls as he called to Sehun as loudly as he dared.

But soon, just as Jongdae was about to raise his voice even louder, far louder than what was acceptable, he almost crashed into a person who had quickly turned the same corner he was turning. After the initial start died down, Jongdae took one look at the person and threw himself at him, arms squeezing the body in front of him.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, “I’m fine…I’m fine.”

“You already know what I thought,” Jongdae said, looking around carefully before speaking again, “You must’ve gone somewhere important if you were missing for so long. But it’s your time to go now. The doctor’s expecting you.”

“I’ll be fine,” Sehun said, rubbing Jongdae’s back, “Really, I’ll be fine.”

“You can’t let them take you,” Jongdae shook his head, gaze darting from Sehun’s eyes to Sehun’s lips to Sehun’s cheeks to Sehun. To Sehun. He had been so preoccupied with what was going to happen that he hadn’t realized what had been happening. Sehun’s lips were pressed together tightly, his jaw still clenched, and he physically looked how Jongdae had just felt earlier. “They can’t suspect anything, but how do you fake what’s in your blood?”

“I’m still happy, so I’m sure there’s not much they can do,” Sehun shrugged before turning his attention closer to Jongdae after he looked around to make sure no one was watching or listening to them. “Jongdae, please do me a favor.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, his expression shifting, “Anything.”

“Walk down this hallway, and make one right turn, one left, and one right turn again,” Sehun said, “You’ll see something that’s…”

Sehun took a minute to exhale deeply before he resumed speaking.

“We’re on to something more than we understand, more than we’re allowed to know, more than what we’re supposed to know. I don’t think the things down here are right. And I’m sure more than ever that my students must be down here somewhere,” Sehun said.

“What did you find?” Jongdae whispered. If he were an enforcer, he would’ve suspected Sehun immediately after taking one look at his face and reported him. But he wasn’t. He was Jongdae. Happy. Distributor. Sehun’s.

“I really…can’t explain it,” Sehun said, rubbing his face with a hand as he exhaled loudly, “It’s something you have to see for yourself.”

“Go now,” Jongdae said, pointing in the opposite direction, “Or they’ll know.”

“They’ll never know,” Sehun said, pulling his lips upwards to flash Jongdae a smile as he began walking backwards, still looking at Jongdae, always looking at Jongdae, “For sure at least. I’ll just tell them I needed to use the bathroom and lost my way.”

“Good luck,” Jongdae said.

“Forget about me for a moment,” Sehun said, stopping in his tracks for a moment, “There’s so much down there that you have to see yourself. Tell me what you find when we’re together again.”

Jongdae nodded once more, watching until Sehun had turned the corner and disappeared. Perhaps things would be all right.

And Sehun, who had easily tricked the other distributors, the other enforcers, the other people from upper management, had even tricked Jongdae himself. As soon as he was out of Jongdae’s sight, he shoved his shaking hands into his pocket and smiled at the passing nurses to look happy, always happy even though he was not. Especially now.

Walking in the opposite direction, Jongdae carefully strode through the hallways with his hands kept properly at his sides. He wasn’t sure how any of the nurses or doctors could navigate their way through here because in this section of the medical center, like most other parts, there were no signs, no arrows to mark which way he was going and which way was the way back.

Jongdae passed by some unmarked doors as he walked down the hallway, trying his best to seem as if he was here for a perfectly good reason. At the end of the hallway he made one right turn, one left, and then one right again. He tried opening a few doors along the hallway, but all were locked and the metal knobs cold. But soon he finally reached a door with bright red letters painted on the front.

 

 

 

DO NOT LEAVE IF YOU ARE ANYTHING BUT HAPPY

 

 

 

 

Jongdae took his pill today, so he could rightfully pass in and out of the room. As soon as he entered the room and heard the noise inside, he immediately pressed his back to the door, hands reaching for the doorknob just in case, just in _case_.

The routine laughter, the sweet cacophony of giggling distracted Jongdae before he noticed the rows and rows of people sitting behind empty desks staring blankly while their shoulders heaved from the effort it took to keep laughing. Once they noticed Jongdae, they straightened their already pristine posture and smiled even wider and laughed even louder. If that was even possible.

Jongdae could not look away, couldn’t even find it within himself to leave, and took a few steps forward, keeping his distance from the people as he observed. There were people here of all ages, all wearing the same white clothes. But unlike the nurses, these white clothes were stitched with numbers. And unlike anything Jongdae had ever seen, all wore metal chains on their wrists that were attached to the desk.

“I’m happy,” a woman said as Jongdae walked past her, tears dripping down her face. She grinned, gripping the edge of the desk as she nodded. “Really! I really am! Happy!”

“I’m happy,” a young boy said, reaching out towards Jongdae and causing his chains to rattle, “See! A smile! Please let me go home… _Please_. I’m happy now. I promise.”

Jongdae quickly moved away from the boy but bumped into another desk behind him.

“I am,” a man said, lurching at Jongdae and grabbing his hand. His face contorted with the effort it took to force out words between his laughter, “I’m happy. You _fool_ , you’ve locked up the wrong person. I’m _happy_. Now let. Me. Go.”

Jongdae tried to twist his hand away, but the man was too strong, and he resisted the urge to scream as he felt fingernails digging into his skin. But the man could not resist the overwhelming desire to laugh, and after a few more seconds of squeezing his lips together to stay silent, a thunderous roar burst forth from his lips and he resumed his wild cackling. Even now, Jongdae could not pull his hand away.

But suddenly an alarm sounded once, plunging the room into a scarlet light as a calm voice spoke an announcement over the speakers.

 

 

 

LAUGH UNTIL YOU CRY UNTIL YOU LAUGH!

 

 

 

 

The alarm screeched once more before a hissing noise started echoing and a smoky gas began snaking into the room and causing the people who breathed it in first to become again overwhelmed with even more uncontrollable fits of laughter. The man beside Jongdae loosened his grasp enough when he began to laugh harder and grin, allowing Jongdae to finally rip his hand away.

For a second, Jongdae watched how everyone started laughing again, all those faces frozen in perpetual happiness, all those lips refusing to bend downwards. This was the loudest Jongdae had ever heard a crowd of people be.

But he had been watching for too long, and Jongdae forgot that the gas had crept nearer and nearer until it was too late and he had inhaled enough. Jongdae suddenly felt a giggle make his shoulders shake, bubbling up until he had no choice but to let it out. His giggling soon crescendoed until he laughed so hard he thought his ribs would break.

Jongdae couldn’t understand what type of a place this was, why everyone was chained here, forced to laugh until they cried until they laughed, so he staggered around, stumbling as he held his sides in an attempt to force the laughs to stop. He laughed and laughed and laughed until he felt tears swim in his eyes, and he fell against the wall, feeling around for the doorknob he could not clearly see. He needed to get _out_.

Finally, he felt a doorknob, and hoping it was the right one, Jongdae swung it open and escaped into the hallway. The gas still affected him, and for a while, Jongdae walked around as best as he could while laughing at nothing, smiling at everything. The nurses and doctors passing him by didn’t even blink, didn’t even suspect he had gone where he should have not. Perhaps this was normal. Jongdae didn’t want this to be normal.

Eventually, he finally calmed down, the gas worn off, and stood in the middle of an unknown intersection that led to four different hallways. He couldn’t remember if he had turned right or left, and the harder he tried to remember which path he took, the more he remembered all that laughing, all those chains, all those people locked up with only identifying numbers rather than names.

“I’m happy! It’s a beautiful day!” a cheerful nurse greeted Jongdae as she wheeled a cart with metal tools clanging around.

“Yes! I am! It is!” Jongdae mustered the energy to say, the metallic clinks sounding too similar to the chains.

“You look so happy!” a doctor said, passing by Jongdae and quickly patting his shoulder before walking towards the sound of a short scream. Did he really? Even now, did he really?

Jongdae continued to stand in the middle of the hallway, unsure of which way to go forwards, not willing to retrace his steps back to where he had come from, all while images of what he had seen, the sounds of what he had heard continued to flash through his mind. Perhaps if he stayed there, it would have been him that would have been suspected.

“You’ve seen my pair haven’t you,” a voice called out in the distance, “He went to the bathroom and must’ve gotten lost.”

Jongdae turned his head towards the sound of the voice, the right wing of the hallways. Still, he could not bother to move.

“He’s about this tall…Shorter than me, which makes it so much more delightful to hug. I can even rest my head on top of his while I hold him. It’s—”

Jongdae could feel his heart again, feel his pulse humming through his chest for a different reason now.

“Oh right. I digress…Anyways, have…you’ve seen him somewhere,” the voice said, “Oh. Alright. Thanks anyways. It’s a beautiful day!”

As Jongdae heard the voice growing closer and closer, he reached out his arm. He didn’t know how he must have looked now, what sort of expression was on his face. But as the lights of the bright hallway shone across the figure and illuminated him as he walked forwards, Jongdae couldn’t look away.

Because there Sehun was.

There Sehun was, as tall as ever, as beautiful as ever as he quickly strode towards Jongdae after finding him. Once he was close enough, he took Jongdae’s hand and didn’t let go.

Together, they walked out of the building, no one saying a word, no one stopping them. Jongdae was surprised no one even spared them a second glance. Perhaps he had overestimated the situation. But to be safe, there was only silence until they reached their house. After what seemed like forever, Jongdae collapsed on the couch while Sehun locked their doors, checking them three times to make sure that it had been done properly.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, staring into nowhere as he sank into the cushions. He could feel Sehun’s weight dip into the couch and feel his body press up against him as they sat side-by-side, “Something is not right.”

They sat across from the blank TV, and through its screen Jongdae could see a shadowy reflection of Sehun. For a moment he couldn’t recognize him.

“Some things haven’t been right for a while now,” Sehun said. Jongdae dragged his gaze across the screen until he saw what looked like his own reflection. For another moment he couldn’t recognize his own self.

“Things like this do not happen,” Jongdae said, “But they did. But they’re happening now by the very people who say they don’t happen.”

“This is clearly bigger than my students. How many other people are missing family members? What if some people are missing pairs?” Sehun said, “We need to do something.”

“How,” Jongdae asked, “We’re still waiting on your blood test results. Why are you preparing to do more when I’m thinking of how to leave?”

“We can’t just leave,” Sehun shook his head, “Think of all the people who don’t know, who have to keep living like this.”

“There’s too many to save, Sehun. Living in trees still seems better than this,” Jongdae said. He tore his gaze away from the blank TV and stared at the unopened letters in front of them on the coffee table. He didn’t want to know what these letters said and left them untouched.

“Then let me at least find my students,” Sehun said, “After that, we’ll find a way out.”

“Then we’ll have to do it quickly before they process your blood test results,” Jongdae said. The anesthetics that the doctor injected in his arm had worn off by now, but Jongdae still felt numb. “I don’t think I want to live here anymore. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”

But he had to.

And he continued to do so.

Jongdae maintained their cover, taking his pills every day, giving out other pills every day, hiding Sehun’s extra pills every day. He knew the pills were supposed to make everyone happy, but for some reason, he didn’t feel good about distributing them anymore. But he had to, he did, and he would continue to do so.

Every day before Jongdae would leave for work, he would take his pill, forgetting almost everything until Sehun looked at him with such a deep expression, held his hands and told him every day what was wrong, what they had found. Jongdae would sometimes beg him not to say anymore, to let him live happily in peace. But Sehun would always remind him of what really was and held him for exactly five minutes, brushing aside his tears, mending his heart that broke every day. And after five minutes, Jongdae would take a deep breath, slide a smile on his face, and drive to work.

As for the blood work, no results had been sent out, so Jongdae tried to relax and forget.

But Sehun constantly mentioned it and was so certain that every day would be the day the enforcers would take him.

“We have to do something now,” Sehun said on one of those days while they were sitting on the couch once again, “We haven’t found my students yet. I promised their mothers.”

“How exactly do you want to do that,” Jongdae said, glancing at the unopened letters before cautiously picking one up.

“I don’t think we can sneak in,” Sehun said, “They’d know if we didn’t have an appointment immediately.”

Jongdae didn’t know how much the people in the medical center knew, but it was best to assume they knew everything rather than nothing.

“Then we’ll avoid the receptionist area,” Jongdae said, turning over the letter in his hands. It was blank.

“You’re right,” Sehun said, leaning back into the couch as he stared at the ceiling, “There’s so many hallways we could easily lose them in. I guess the only problem is how to find everything.”

It was so odd, the way that they conversed about such topics in the same way, the same easygoing tone that they would use to discuss every day mundane things such as when was the next time their cars were due for a new set of tires. But this was their life now. Refused pills, possible enforcement confrontations, and missing people. Never had their lives ever been the slightest bit mundane.

“We could just ask…in an acceptable way,” Jongdae said, slowly running his finger through the sealed part of the envelope to tear it apart. He quickly drew his hand back after it cut his finger.

“I suppose that’s the good thing about this society. No one asks questions as long as you don’t,” Sehun said.

“No,” Jongdae said, staring at his finger before opening the letter up and reading it through. It was only just a newsletter for Sehun’s high school.

“Now how do we get _in_ ,” Sehun said.

Jongdae placed the letter on the coffee table after realizing he had smudged it with a little bit of his blood.

“We can’t just walk in can we?” he said.

 

ϟ

 

 

They just walked in.

After Sehun had convinced Jongdae it was better to sneak in before waiting for the possibility of enforcers coming for him, the two of them drove to the lowest parking lot before finally taking that same glass elevator down.

And then they walked in.

No one knew any better, no one cared that they were there as long as Jongdae and Sehun remembered to greet them properly, to smile, to nod. Jongdae still felt very exposed to all these people who dressed differently than them, so he tapped on a nurse and smiled.

“We need uniforms,” Jongdae said.

“Of course,” the nurse smiled, “It seems no one has helped you yet. First door on the right.”

“If everyone doesn’t ask questions like this,” Sehun whispered to Jongdae as they made their way to that door, “then how could they suspect us?”

“Someone has to be asking the questions or refusing to let anyone ask questions,” Jongdae said, thinking of the doctor. Who else had clearance to ask, to know?

Once they reached the first door on the right, they entered another bright room with rows and rows of lockers. Most of them were locked, and those that weren’t only contained casual clothing. But luckily, a few extra pairs of uniforms were folded and kept on a table near the middle.

“How do we know what to wear?” Sehun asked, staring at all the different clothes.

“We copy them,” Jongdae said, picking up a long, white turtleneck that he placed on Sehun’s chest to check its size. It was too small, so he continued sorting through the pile until he found one that could fit. “Here.”

“I’m assuming this white coat goes on the outside of the shirt,” Sehun said, picking up a coat and helping Jongdae into it. Somehow it fit perfectly.

After the two of them were dressed properly, Jongdae couldn’t help but realize that there was still a pile of plastic coats lying around. He didn’t know what they were for, and he hadn’t seen anyone wear them, so they just left, exiting the room with their new clothes.

As they walked through the building side-by-side, Jongdae smiled brighter knowing that it would be harder for them to get caught. If they looked just like everyone else, then how could anything go wrong?

“I don’t suppose we can just ask anyone where your students are,” Jongdae said, not minding at all the people who passed by him.

“We could,” Sehun shrugged, “Might as well try.”

Jongdae was calm as he watched Sehun approach a nurse to demand information.

“You know where Choi Yoojung, Kim Doyeon, and Kim Yeri are,” Sehun said.

“No, sorry. Have a good one!” the nurse said before she walked off.

“Maybe they don’t know them by name,” Jongdae said, remembering the way the people in that room had numbers stitched on their clothes, “Maybe there’s too many names to know.”

“I guess the easiest but longest way is to look everywhere and hope that we’ll get lucky,” Sehun said, already walking up to the closest door and rattling it, finding it locked.

“What if they’re behind there and we’ll never know,” Jongdae said after Sehun released the doorknob and began continuing onwards.

“Then we’ll come back,” Sehun said, “Today, let’s look through all the doors that are unlocked.”

The two of them walked around, opening doors that they were not meant to opened, never finding what they wanted to find, but always finding what they never wanted to see.

The third door they opened revealed a screaming person lying on a stretcher, strapped to the surface so they could not move. The nurses were busy injecting something black into their skin. They stopped to say hello, but Jongdae and Sehun were gone before they could see what happened next.

The tenth door they opened revealed a room of about ten patients lying in bed staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. None of them acknowledged Jongdae’s and Sehun’s presences when they entered the room. None of them were Sehun’s students, so that door was closed as quickly as it was opened.

The fifteenth door they opened revealed a room with rows of people doing nothing but smiling. Some of them used metal contraptions that pulled their lips upwards to maintain their smile. Others had stitches near their lips as if someone had surgically granted them a perpetual smile. After all but slamming that door behind them, Jongdae finally suggested that they had pushed their luck enough and should be heading back before anyone realized what they were doing. Sehun, to his surprise, agreed.

Everything was supposed to be fine. They were supposed to leave undetected and unbothered.

But suddenly, four nurses all standing on the different sides of a stretcher wheeled a person right in front of them. Jongdae didn’t manage to get a long glimpse of whoever it was and just saw a pale, limp arm and wide eyes. He didn’t recognize the person, but suddenly Sehun had grabbed Jongdae’s hand and whispered urgently.

“That’s…that’s Yeri,” Sehun said, starting to walk a little faster in pursuit of the stretcher, “Oh, that’s her.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jongdae whispered for a different reason as he looked around them, beginning to think of what people would see, what Sehun would do.

“We have to get her out,” Sehun said, stopping in his tracks before raising his voice, “Stop.”

“Oh no,” Jongdae said to himself again as the nurses stopped and swiveled in place all at the same time.

“Hello! You must need something,” one of the nurses cheerfully said, still gripping the metal railing of the stretcher.

“You are taking her to the wrong place,” Sehun said, “Let us take her to where she is supposed to be going.”

“That can’t be right,” another nurse said, “We were ordered to bring her to conversion level two.”

The other nurses raised their lips in such a way that did not comfort Jongdae at all, so he spoke.

“It’s right. They want you back in the medical lab anyways. We’ll take it from here,” Jongdae said, raising his hand up to calm the nurses. They looked at each other again before walking away.

“You’re the best,” Sehun whispered as he grabbed one side of the stretcher and began to push.

“Anything for you,” Jongdae said, picking up his pace to stand in front of the stretcher and to pull it along while Sehun pushed it from the back.

“Yeri,” Sehun whispered behind him, “Can you hear me?”

There was a long silence in which nothing but Jongdae routinely greeting nurses to maintain their cover sounded. What had they done to this girl?

“Oh,” a small voice said behind Jongdae that caused him to let out a long exhale for Sehun’s sake, “I thought I’d never see a familiar face again.”

“Are you alright? What have they done with you? Where are Yoojung and Doyeon?” Sehun whispered. Jongdae gripped the railing a little harder. Sehun was asking many things. Hopefully none of the wrong people would hear.

“Stop,” Yeri said, “You can’t ask questions. They’ll put you in rehabilitation for years and never let you out.”

“It’s okay. We’re here now. Don’t cry. Do tell us anything that can help. We’re bringing you back to your mother, but we need to know where your friends are,” Sehun said. Jongdae peered back, and sure enough, a stray tear had spilled out onto Yeri’s face. Her eyes were still blank, still staring up at the lights that passed them from above, but her eyebrows were tilted upwards. He didn’t know what had been done to her, but if there was no smile on her face, no liveliness, then something most definitely was not right.

“My mother,” she said a little louder, “They told me she doesn’t remember me.” Jongdae stayed silent as he focused on navigating them to the end, to the outside. He had sworn that they were close now, and some of these hallways looked more familiar than not. But then again, every hallway looked the same. Either way, they had to be near the exit. They had to.

“She does,” Sehun said, “one way or another, she does. We visited her.”

“Oh,” Yeri said again, and her voice wavered in such a way that Jongdae didn’t have to look behind him to know.

“Yoojung and Doyeon came here before me, so I don’t know where they are,” Yeri said, “All I know is that they sent them to a different division than me since I was stuck in rehabilitation and never saw them. I still don’t know what that means. But I want to go. Please…get me out.”

“Of course,” Sehun said, “We’re getting you out. Everything will be all right, and you’ll see your mother again.”

Jongdae could see the exit right in front of him, the glass doors of the elevator just waiting to open to take them up and away from here. They were so close, so close, and all they had to do was just keep—

“Stop,” came a voice that echoed from their left. Jongdae instantly stopped in his tracks, slightly dragged along by Sehun who had paid the voice no mind and continued pushing.

“Stop,” a louder voice said. Two nurses stood in front of Jongdae and placed their hands on the bottom of the stretcher. Jongdae’s heart was conflicted, torn between wanting to stop and beating so fast he thought this was the end.

“Patient 915 is supposed to be in level two rehabilitation now. She cannot be here. You must be doing something you’re not authorized to do,” the nurse said.

“We’re transporting her,” Jongdae said. The vaguer, the better. “Two nurses were called in, so we were asked to transport her in their place.”

“That can’t be right,” the other nurse said, shaking her head.

“You look familiar,” a nurse said, staring at Sehun.

“I work here,” Sehun said.

“That is not likely,” the nurse said, “transporters wear clear jackets over their uniforms. I do not see yours. You do not have clearance to do this.”

“That’s our fault,” Jongdae tried to say, searching for any excuse, “It was a simple uniform misconduct.”

“I was handling blood samples that needed further testing,” one nurse said, “I feel like I have seen your face in the files.”

There was a choice Jongdae would make and always make, and right now, in front of Sehun, he would make that choice again.

“If you are so worried about clearance and where patients are supposed to be, then take her back yourself,” Jongdae smiled, releasing his grasp on Yeri’s stretcher, “We were just leaving anyways. Upper management wants us, but I’m glad you have everything under control.”

“No, I—” Sehun had already raised his voice, realizing what Jongdae had done.

“We’re leaving,” Jongdae said, walking back to Sehun and all but ripping his hands off of the stretcher.

“That does not explain why you have clearance. You don’t have—”

“Have a good day! We’re happy!” Jongdae said, grabbing Sehun’s arm and guiding them past the nurses.

Jongdae was used to screaming in the workplace, but the loud cry that echoed throughout the medical center from the stretcher that the nurses pulled away haunted him as the elevator doors closed and took them safely up.

Sehun was silent as they walked out of the medical center and found their car again. There was a smile on his face he showed to the people that walked around them, but it was not a smile that Jongdae thought was very friendly at all. Or very real either.

Sehun waited until they were seated in the car with all doors closed and all windows rolled up until he reacted.

“We almost had her, Jongdae,” Sehun said, not thinking of how loud his voice was.

“And then what?” Jongdae said as he slowly drove them home, “What would they have done to you? She seems alive. We can come back for her.” As he slowed to a stop when they approached a red light, he kept his fingers gripping the wheel tightly.

“We don’t—” Sehun began to say before fixing his expression to smile back at a person who had pulled up next to their car. Sehun continued to wave and smile until the light turned green.

“We don’t _know_ that, Jongdae,” Sehun said as soon as Jongdae drove past the other car, “We don’t even know what they’re doing with her, what they’re doing to the others.”

“We’ll come back,” Jongdae said, “Promise.”

Sehun turned his head away from Jongdae. Gone was the sweet smile, the crescented eyes that Jongdae would see when Sehun was his happiest. Gone was the way he pressed his lips together to unsuccessfully keep himself from laughing before a giggle burst out of his lips.

Jongdae only regretted what he did for a second because at least Sehun was still with him.

When they reached their home, Sehun rushed inside before anyone watching could see the deep wrinkles of unhappiness etching on his face. Jongdae followed, and it was his turn to lock the doors three times and check three times while Sehun slumped on the couch and stared into nothing. Jongdae hesitantly took a seat on the couch, and when Sehun said nothing, he let him be in silence as he sorted through some letters. Some were advertisements for new houses on sale. Others were promotions for local businesses. But when Jongdae reached the end of the pile and saw only two blank envelopes remaining, he knew.

He knew.

With trembling fingers, Jongdae held his breath as he slid open the first one.

The entire paper was blank, save for three lines of bold letters in the middle that made Jongdae’s heart stop.

 

 

 

 

RESULTS: KIM JONGDAE  
TESTING WAS INCONCLUSIVE  
VISIT US AGAIN

 

 

 

 

 

What.

Jongdae stared at the sheet of paper a moment longer before tossing it to the floor. Fine. That was fine. It didn’t matter if he would be called in for more testing since he knew he was all right. There must have been an error with the testing because there was no way he was not happy. His results had never mattered to him anyways since he was so sure of himself and because only Sehun’s had ever mattered. Only Sehun ever mattered.

With trembling hands, Jongdae ripped open the last letter and all but felt his heart jolt to life and stammer against his chest for the wrong reasons, as he could only stare and stare and stare at the same, exact message.

 

 

 

 

RESULTS: OH SEHUN  
TESTING WAS INCONCLUSIVE  
VISIT US AGAIN

 

 

 

 

 

“No,” Jongdae said, breathing in sharply as he clenched the paper in his hands, not wanting to see the message anymore. He knew it. He _knew_ it. Sehun looked up as Jongdae broke the silence with his word, picked up the first discarded letter, smoothed out the paper, and let out a loud gasp as he read the words before turning to Jongdae who still grasped Sehun’s letter in his hands.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Sehun said, breaking his silence at last, waving Jongdae’s results in the air, “You should have been safe. I thought you would be safe. I thought it would only be me they had a problem with.”

“I don’t matter,” Jongdae shook his head, “I can easily find a way out of this since I’ve been taking the pills. But you…why do they need us both again?”

Sehun slowly pried his own letter from Jongdae’s hand and read it to himself before looking up, his gaze strangely and eerily calm.

“Maybe my blood showed them I wasn’t nearly as happy as everyone else, but not so unhappy that they’d know immediately,” Sehun said, “After all, you still make me happy, Jongdae. It’s not like I’ve been completely upset all the time.”

Jongdae fell silent.

“Now what,” he said.

“Now we go back,” Sehun said, “And we bring back Yeri. At least we know she’s there. We can find the others, too.”

“They already suspect us,” Jongdae said, unsure of why Sehun was so insistent even now, “There’s no way they don’t know.”

“I guess this will give them more reasons to suspect,” Sehun said, “But at least we’ll have tried to do something before it’s our time to go, right?”

“Right,” Jongdae said. But he still didn’t feel right, still felt so wrong about this because if Sehun was still suspected, shouldn’t he at least act like everyone else until this was over? So he could save himself?

He couldn’t remember what it was like, a life without Sehun.

And he didn’t want to know what that would be like.

But either way, the two of them had to return whether they wanted to or not for further blood tests, so Jongdae and Sehun returned once again to that medical center deep under the ground, deeper than anything they knew after they drove to a proper parking lot and took the glass elevator down.

Just like last time, they waited with the receptionist who knew their names before they said them, who knew why they were here before they said it, and announced that it was time for them to go before they even knew it.

“You’ll go first,” the nurse said, looking at Jongdae. Jongdae exchanged a look with Sehun, unable to say the things he wanted because of her presence. Sehun just nodded and smiled reassuringly.

As Jongdae entered the room, this time, there were several nurses waiting for him. This time, the lights were a little dimmer around the room, but there still was one giant spotlight shining on a chair that Jongdae laid down on. This time there were straps that the nurses fastened to Jongdae’s arms and legs that kept him in place.

And this time, they took much more than just three small tubes of blood.

Jongdae closed his eyes the whole time because the spotlight above was too bright and he did not want to stare at the nurses who surrounded him and continued watching until they were done with him. He was not worried. He had nothing to worry about. And yet, somehow his heart picked up its pace after the nurses removed all that blood, searching for something that Jongdae didn’t even know.

“Send in the other,” one of the nurses said as soon as they removed the straps from Jongdae’s arm.

Jongdae got to his feet and almost fell had he not grabbed onto one of the nurse’s chairs. The nurses watched without any reaction, not stretching out even a hand to help him. He stood in place for a moment to avoid falling again.

“Send in the other,” the nurse repeated, pointing towards the door.

Jongdae just nodded as he made his way to the door. Before he could even look, Sehun grasped his hand and shut the door, stepping away from the nurses’ view as it closed.

“I found her,” Sehun breathlessly said, struggling to catch his breath, “Get her while I’m gone, and then let’s go.”

“Alright,” Jongdae nodded, “I’ll meet you back here. Five minutes.”

That was all he needed.

“Might want to run then,” Sehun said, “Three right turns. Three left. It’s the eighth door.”

Sehun moved to open the door inside, but Jongdae grabbed his hand before he could turn the doorknob.

“You have to come back,” Jongdae said, “They can’t take you.”

“Of course,” Sehun grinned, pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead, “I’ll fight my way out if I have to so I can come back to you.”

Jongdae nodded and watched as Sehun slipped inside the door, listening for anything out of the ordinary for a second before rushing off to find Yeri. He ran through the hallways, took three right turns, three left turns, and counted eight doors. Panting, Jongdae ripped open the door just in time to see nurses injecting something dark into an IV that was hooked to Yeri.

“Oh,” Yeri said, “It’s you!”

But whatever was in the IV must have done something to her because she fell asleep right away, the light, the glimmer of recognition flickering until her eyes closed completely.

“We’re happy,” the nurses said all at once, “It’s a beautiful day. You must need something.”

Jongdae was speechless for a moment, not prepared to face nurses again. So, he simply blurted out the first excuse that came to his mind.

“There’s a patient missing. We don’t know what happened, but it looks like she’s escaped,” Jongdae said.

The nurses looked at each other before rushing out of the room. This was too easy when no one would question him. Jongdae gently unhooked the IV from Yeri’s arm, a small amount of blood spilling out of the small wound. Leaving the eighth room, he pushed her down three left turns and three right turns until he reached Sehun’s door while other nurses rushed around to find the missing patient. He pressed an ear to the door, but there was still no sound. Jongdae continued waiting by the door and shifted his weight from one leg to another while Yeri slept beside him. Sehun would come back and return to him. He would.

“It’s her turn for a blood test next,” Jongdae said, pointing at Yeri when people would approach him and speak.

“Her testing was inconclusive,” Jongdae said, spitting out the vocabulary that had been fed to him when other doctors looked at him a little too much for his liking. But time was running out, and he was sure that the nurses would realize that their patient was gone, Jongdae right here with her.

After a while, with no sign of Sehun, Jongdae was prepared to head in, to charge straight inside to make Sehun come back until the door finally opened, revealing Sehun looking paler than before. But once he saw Jongdae and Yeri, he brightened.

“Let’s go,” he said, clutching the front of the railing and pulling them forwards while Jongdae pushed from the back this time.

It was easier to navigate through the hallways now, and soon enough they could both see the door that awaited them, the glass door of the elevator that would take them out. Sehun pressed the up button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator would come now. They were so close, they were so close, they were almost free.

Jongdae took a deep breath to calm himself. Several nurses stared at Yeri but did not question what they were doing with her or why she was so far away from any rooms. One nurse continued staring at Jongdae, stepping forwards until she was right in front of him. The elevator was nowhere in sight.

“A patient is missing,” the nurse continued, staring strangely at Jongdae, “And if you look familiar, then you must be the patient.”

“I’m not,” Jongdae calmly said.

“Come with me,” the nurse said, grabbing Jongdae’s wrist tightly, “We’ll bring you back to where you’re meant to be.”

“He won’t,” Sehun said, lunging forward to grab Jongdae’s other hand, “He’s not the missing patient you’re looking for.”

“Unless you have any idea of who this patient is, I’m inclined to think it is him. Look! What an air of unhappiness he has…Even if he’s not the patient, we should take him in for further testing,” the nurse said in such a way that made Jongdae feel, for the first time, concerned for his own self.

Behind them, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. There was a moment to act, and this time, it was Sehun who made the choice.

“Her,” Sehun said without even a moment’s hesitation, pointing at Yeri who was still asleep through the midst of this all, “We were sent to transport her, but I guess someone didn’t tell you she was not missing.”

“I see,” the nurse said, glancing at Yeri, releasing Jongdae’s hand from her grasp as she reached out to hold the railings of the stretcher, “Well. I’ll take her back and fix that system error.”

“You should,” Sehun said, still holding onto the railing.

“If you’ll excuse me,” the nurse said, staring at Sehun’s clenched hand, “I must go. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Of course,” Sehun said, and slowly lifted his hands from the railing.

“Have a good one!” the nurse said as she wheeled away the stretcher.

The commotion had caused them to miss that elevator, but it was no problem. The two of them stared at the nurse's and Yeri’s diminishing figures in the distance until the pleasant _ding_ of the elevator sounded again to let them know that their ride out of here, their escape out was right here.

The ride to the top was silent, and even more silent was the walk back to the car. They should have been in a rush to flee as fast as they could after another narrow escape, and yet, they took their time, calmly walking together. Jongdae briefly thought of what the nurse meant when she said he had an air of unhappiness even though he was happy and had taken his pills. Perhaps she didn’t know what she was talking about. She couldn’t have known what she was talking about.

But in the car, all he could say out loud, was just this.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae quietly said as they sat in the car, too stunned to start the engine, but too worried to stay still for long. Sehun traded spots with Jongdae after a while and drove a little faster than normal, but not too fast that they would have been in trouble. He said nothing this whole time, staring at the road ahead. Jongdae could not look at anything else except Sehun, continually repeating to himself or to Sehun, he didn’t even know, that he was sorry.

When they reached home, Sehun triple checked the locks before he took Jongdae’s hand and led him to the couch. Jongdae sat on the couch, studying Sehun’s expression as Sehun slid next to him so that their legs pressed against each other. Sehun took a deep breath. And another. And another, until he began breathing faster and faster before he quickly laid down, pressing his face into Jongdae’s lap.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, hand hovering over Sehun’s body before placing it on his shoulder and rubbing it. Sehun’s shoulders shook, but as soon as a sob spilled out of his lips, one that he tried so hard not to sound, Jongdae felt tears leap to his eyes. Most of the times he had cried were because he was too happy. But now, oh, he couldn’t stand watching Sehun burying his face in his lap crying like this.

“Jongdae,” Sehun tried to say, his voice wavering, “she was right _there_. I could have so easily taken her away, taken her home to her mother. This was the second time.”

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, “Maybe if I hadn’t let her go so easily the first time she could’ve been home by now.”

“No,” Sehun said, pushing himself up off of Jongdae’s lap to face him, “We made the same choice for each other. We can’t be sorry. It hurts, but I’d make the same choice again and again and again.”

But it didn’t mean he felt better about it, and Sehun still pressed his lips together, his shoulder shaking again before he fell forwards, pressing his face into Jongdae’s neck. Jongdae wrapped his arms around him, pressing their bodies together. This was not an unfamiliar position, but Jongdae did not recognize the many tears they shed together like this, no. This would have been unusual ages ago, but today it didn’t surprise him.

After some time had passed and after their tears had all but dried, Sehun removed his head from Jongdae’s neck. Jongdae studied the way his jaw clenched now, the hard glint in his gaze.

“You want to go back again,” Jongdae softly said, “don’t you?”

“Jongdae, you know how lucky I am to have you. But…just for a moment, can you just forget me? There’s so many thing wrong with this society, and I’m not the most important thing here,” Sehun said.

“But you are to me,” Jongdae said, “And I’m sorry, but I can’t bring myself to care about anything as much as I care about you.”

7:00 was for waking up next to Sehun. 7:10 was for showering first so Sehun could sleep a little longer. 7:30 was for making breakfast for Sehun. 8:00 was saying good-bye to Sehun. 9:00-5:30 was for working hard so he could see Sehun sooner. 6:00-12:00 was for Sehun, all Sehun. Dinner together. Loving together. Being together. If there was no Sehun, there was no life. Sehun was everything.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, placing his hands on Jongdae’s shoulders, “There is more to this society than me. There is more to everything that’s been happening than me. There is more to life than me, and one day you’ll see.”

Jongdae tried to consider a life without Sehun, and it was possible. 7:00 was for waking up. 8:00 was for going to work. 9:00-5:30 was for working. 6:00-12:00 was for resting at home so he could have enough energy to wake up at 7:00 again. But Jongdae didn’t want that life. He didn’t want anything without Sehun.

“What’s the point if you’re not there?” Jongdae said, realizing how lucky they were that Sehun had not been taken away yet, “What is my life with you? There’s only waking up at the same time every day, only working at the same time with the same people doing the same thing.”

“The point is to keep going, to keep living, Jongdae. I don’t know what they’ll do to me in case I’m caught soon. But in case my time’s ticking down, in case my clock’s all but broken, let’s at least bring back my students. We were so close today. Let’s bring at least one home, and I will feel better before it’s time for me to go,” Sehun said. His voice was even, but after he finished speaking, he took a shaky breath as if he finally stopped to consider himself.

Jongdae would have, and always had given Sehun everything he wanted. So if Sehun wanted to mess with upper management, if he wanted to trick the whole medical center into releasing three girls, then Jongdae would help so Sehun would make it out of there safely. There was a part of him that wanted to keep Sehun right here and never let him go so he’d always have him. There was also still a part of him that believed Sehun could escape unscathed even though he had not been taking his pills, even though the doctors had requested more testing, even though he had been doing things that should not have been done, thinking things that should not have been thought. But there was a bigger part of him that just wanted to be with Sehun, doing things together that were right or not and surviving day by day being happy or not.

“Fine,” Jongdae said.

He had spoken so softly that Sehun had looked up, unsure if he had heard him properly.

“Fine,” Jongdae said again, louder and with such force, such certainty that Sehun’s mouth had dropped open, “If you want to burn the building down, if you want to tear apart this city, then do it. Do it until there’s nothing but ashes left. But you cannot expect me to leave you behind, to let anything happen to you. So if you want to find your students and bring them home, and if you want to destroy upper management until there’s nothing left, then I’ll be right there with you.”

Sehun breathed, taking in what Jongdae had said for a moment. These were dangerous words, but the right words, and Jongdae forgot about what would come next because the way Sehun looked at him right now made him feel happier than any pill he took every day could. Sehun reached in to kiss him suddenly…swiftly…sweetly, and in that moment, Jongdae imagined a sky with colors other than blue, a life with emotions other than just happiness, but always an existence, an eternity with Sehun.

“How does Saturday sound?” Sehun said after they broke apart.

“No,” Jongdae shook his head. But before Sehun could ask why, he continued onwards. “We have dinner reservations.”

Sehun let out a laugh, and Jongdae was so in love.

“For your favorite place,” Jongdae smiled genuinely, “So…Sunday?”

“Sunday,” Sehun agreed.

 

ϟ

 

 

On Sunday, Jongdae and Sehun did not wake up at 7:00 like all the other days. This day, Jongdae woke up at 8:00 but refused to wake Sehun, opting to lie in bed with him, to press his body to Sehun’s until Sehun woke all on his own two hours later. There was no rush after all, and Jongdae didn’t mind prolonging what was to come.

This Sunday, Jongdae took his time making breakfast, letting Sehun, who was already sitting at the table, wait a little longer for his food to be served. After they ate, Sehun refused to take his pill again like usual, and Jongdae took his like usual.

For a shining moment, Jongdae was happy just like how he was supposed to be, how all the people in this society had to be. He was laughing, grinning, and he couldn’t understand why Sehun looked at him as if something was wrong because it was a beautiful day! The sun was shining! He was! Happy!

But when Sehun scooted his chair closer, picked up both of Jongdae’s hands to hold as he explained to him and reminded for the thousandth time of what he forgot, again, like always, Jongdae felt a crushing sense of realization spread throughout him and was unable to say anything except a small _oh_.

Oh.

Oh, yes.

Yes, they did live in this society where they were supposed to be nothing but happy. They did live in this society where people disappeared without others even noticing or remembering. They did live in this society that wanted something with them, something beyond what either of them could realize at the moment.

This was how things were.

This was how things always happened, and no one was allowed to question how it worked.

Sehun did anyways.

And Jongdae would follow Sehun anywhere at all, so of course on this Sunday while the sun shined bright like always, while the sky remained blue like always, Jongdae and Sehun went to the medical center dressed in the white uniforms they had stolen the first time. If Sehun was unsettled by what they were doing, he refused to show it and acted as normally as possible. But Jongdae couldn’t act as well as Sehun could, and even though he had taken the pill today, he sometimes had to shove his hands in his pocket to hide the shakiness he felt.

As they walked through the white hallways while the blinding lights above followed them, no one paid them any attention, no one said anything out of the ordinary except for those familiar, cheerful greetings. Jongdae would have never wanted to directly interact with the nurses especially today, but he admired the steady ease in which Sehun so easily approached the nurses to figure out where Yeri was.

“You know 915,” Sehun said to a nurse, “You know where she is being held.”

“No, sorry! Have a good one!” some nurses would say.

“She sounds familiar, but I’m sorry I don’t know!” others would say.

“That’s okay! Thanks anyways!” Sehun grinned like he was supposed to while Jongdae remained silently smiling by his side.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Jongdae said as they continued to walk down the hallways because it was more dangerous to stay in one place than to keep going, “What if we just open a door and she just happens to be there.”

“It can’t hurt to try,” Sehun said, lifting the corners of his lips even higher as a few doctors strode past them, “There can’t be _that_ many doors in this building. We’ll find her eventually.”

Oh it hurt.

It did hurt to try.

Jongdae and Sehun had spent all of their lives until now thinking little of pain and knowing little of anything other than happiness. So naturally, as they looked behind more of those white doors, they began to realize once again that things were not as they knew and what they knew was not how they were supposed to appear.

The first few doors they opened were just empty rooms with empty beds and chairs. They seemed harmless enough, but Jongdae noticed something dark swirling in the abandoned IVs, little droplets of blood someone missed that stained the white floor, and what seemed like scratch marks on the walls.

Then there was the screaming.

Jongdae was accustomed to screaming. It was perhaps an occupational normality to hear screaming in his building, but before all of this, he was not supposed to mind it. Though today, as they opened a few more doors, he minded, and while he was silent, his mind buzzed with questions that threatened to drip out of his mouth.

Sehun, on the other hand, could not stay silent.

“He looks like he’s in pain,” Sehun said after they opened one door and was greeted with the sound of screaming. It was hard for him to keep his voice even and not at too loud of a volume, but Sehun tried anyways. Luckily the nurses were too preoccupied with their patients to even notice.

“Of course he is,” one nurse said as he pointed to a man strapped to a chair while other nurses held his restrained limbs down. He wore some sort of an odd contraption on his head that crackled with electricity.

“The pain that the shocks induce trigger a desire for him to be happy,” another nurse said while she turned up the electrical currents causing the man to scream louder and louder, “He did not want to be happy before and refused to take his pills, but now he’s missing the moments he could’ve spent smiling in peace.”

“He’ll die if you keep doing that,” Sehun said. Jongdae wordlessly took Sehun’s hand and already began to walk them out of the room.

“He’ll be sent to a different place before that ultimately happens,” the nurse said before turning back to the man. There was a trail of blood that leaked from the man’s mouth, but even then would he not stop screaming.

“This is enough,” Jongdae muttered, slamming the door behind them before they began walking again as far away as possible from the noises. After a while, Jongdae wasn’t sure if the screaming they still heard came from a new patient held around the hallway or came from the memory that still rang in his mind. Never had he missed the sound of laughter so deeply in this moment.

But the two of them were on a time limit, so they had no choice but to take a deep breath, keep the corners of their lips raised as high as they could raise them and keep walking. Luckily, the next room they tried was empty and had no patient strapped to the chair that stood in the middle of the room next to a desk and some chairs. Unluckily, the doorknob began turning, and they had no good excuse for why they were standing frozen without any authorization to be here. So with an urgent _go_ , Jongdae pushed Sehun towards the desk and crouched behind it with him as they waited with bated breath.

Two nurses entered, accompanying a patient who looked around the room with darting eyes. She did not resist, but balled up her hands into tense fists.

“Is this one of your other students?” Jongdae dared to whisper as he peeked above the desk.

Sehun slowly peeked out of the desk until he caught a glimpse of the patient and shook his head before pulling Jongdae back down.

“This isn’t clearance,” the patient said between shaky breaths, “This can’t be clearance.”

“You are not hopeless,” the nurse said, “so this is not clearance.”

“Sit down and relax. It won’t hurt at all,” the other nurse said.

Jongdae pressed a hand over his mouth, though still felt like his own breathing was too loud, much too loud. But he could not fight his desire to look and peeked out of the corner of the desk this time. Sehun grabbed the back of his shirt but did not pull him back just yet.

“Yeah, right,” the patient said, “That’s what you said the first time. The second time. The third time. All the times after that.”

“Nothing hurts,” a nurse said, fastening restraints to the patient’s arms and legs to strap her in place.

“We promise,” the other nurse said as she inserted metal devices into the person’s eyes, making them unable to blink or look away.

Jongdae slowly turned away from the scene to register what he had just seen. Sehun leaned into him, silently asking with wide eyes what he had just witnessed, what was happening there. Jongdae could only shake his had, just shake his head over and over again and again.

Soon, a smooth voice sounded, and Jongdae peeked out of the desk again to look.

“Hello,” the voice said. It must have come from the screen that dropped down from the ceiling and hung suspended right in front of the patient.

“Here,” the voice said as words filled the screen, “is how to be happy.”

No one really taught how to be happy in schools. Happiness was just an assumed state of being that was as normal as breathing. Of course if people truly wanted, there were classes on how to smile brighter, how to laugh better. Jongdae didn’t think that it could be taught, so he couldn’t understand what the voice tried to achieve with this.

“This is what a happy person looks like,” the voice said as the screen flashed to footage of a child sitting with her hands on her lap and a grin on her face. Jongdae recognized this look very well. He saw it every day after all. “Observe. Look at how this little girl smiles.”

The camera zoomed in onto the girl’s lips.

“This is how you smile,” the voice announced in the same calm, smooth tone, “Look at how the ends of her lips are stretched up as far as they can go. Notice how she does not let her lips fall even for a second. Notice how this is the most she can smile. You, too, should strive for such a smile. After all, it can show that you are happy, and everyone must be happy at all times.”

“This is how else you show you’re happy,” the voice said as the lights flickered for a moment, “You should be familiar with this behavior, but we know you are here because you refused to comply with what we demand and what we need. So do not look away or even think of forgetting what is shown to you.”

“Anyways,” the voice said as the lights brightened, “look at how this little girl interacts and behaves with another person.”

The girl stood up straight and walked to the right, the camera following her until she stopped as a little boy approached.

“Hello!” the little girl cheerfully said, “I’m happy! It’s a beautiful day today!”

The screen paused as the voice smoothly took over.

“It is proper to greet someone first with a friendly hello,” the voice said, “Tone is important, but if it is difficult for you to master the perfect cheerfulness in your voice, then stating that you are happy will automatically inform the other person that you are normal. Observing that the day is beautiful is simply a courtesy. We all know the days are always beautiful, but there are just some things we do in this society. And you have obviously questioned them and not followed them, which is why you’re here.”

The screen then panned to the boy who looked at the girl with a dull gaze, his hands in his pocket, and his lips pressed together.

“Hello,” the little boy said, slumping his shoulders.

The screen paused.

“This is not what a happy person looks like,” the voice said, “Observe. Look at the lips of this boy.”

The shot zoomed in on the boy’s lips.

“This is not a smile,” the voice said, “Look at how the ends of his lips are not stretched up as far as he can go. Notice how he does not even try to make himself happy. You should not be like this boy. After all, in order to maintain a good society, everyone must be happy.

One of the nurses must have sensed something and began to turn around, so Jongdae ducked behind the desk to avoid being seen.

The voice continued talking.

“In short, this is how you be happy. Take your pill. Laugh. Smile. Mind your own business because anything that you think should not be happening is not really happening because things like this. Do. Not. Happen,” the voice said, pausing for a moment before cheerfully continuing, “Great! Now of course, we must address a few obvious issues.”

“If you are here, then logically, you are not happy. If you are here, then we are trying our best to make sure you are. So, if you don’t comply and try to be happy using all our efforts, then this, my dear, is what will happen to those who are not and do not want to be happy,” the voice continued in the same even tone.

Jongdae didn’t know what they were showing on the screen, but suddenly the patient started screaming louder and louder, causing him and Sehun to press their fingers into their ears to stop hearing it. This was not normal. Surely, this could not be normal.

“Enough,” one of the nurses bellowed, “Happy people do not scream.”

But the patient still did not stop for a while. Jongdae simply closed his eyes, covered his ears, and hoped this would not last. After a few more moments, the door finally slammed and the screaming was no more. Slowly, Jongdae moved his hands away from his ears, suddenly smothered by the silence.

“Should we leave now? What if we get caught,” Jongdae said as he turned to Sehun.

Sehun shook his head again and again, still pressing his hands to his ears.

“It’ll be all—” Jongdae began to say before the door opened again, causing the words to die in his throat.

“I would like it if they gave us different things to do instead of just cleaning up after they do these things,” a voice said.

“At least it’s not blood,” a different voice said.

“You’re right,” the first voice said, “It could’ve been worse.”

“We could’ve worked clearance,” the other said.

Clearance…there was that word again. Perhaps that was where the worst things happened to people in order to force them to become happy. Perhaps that was the final step before the patients could return to society.

The voices left after a few minutes and closed the door behind them. Left in silence again, Jongdae and Sehun held each others’ hands tightly, not daring to say anything or to even breathe.

“Let’s go,” Sehun said after they waited long enough.

“What if there’s people out there,” Jongdae said. His previous curiosity was gone, and if he could, he would’ve liked to sit here longer. The things he had seen and heard were far too much, and he didn’t want to find any worse things.

“We have to take that chance,” Sehun said, already standing up, “and go before more people come in.”

Jongdae remained seated, rooted in place. Sitting was safer than standing.

“I’m right here,” Sehun said a little softer, reaching out a hand to Jongdae, “Don’t worry. I’m right here.”

And just like all the yesterdays, todays, and tomorrows, Jongdae reached out to grab Sehun’s hand and stood. Standing here was safer than being outside after all.

Once they were outside, there was nothing Jongdae could do, no way he could hide again. They had been lucky that no nurses saw them exit the room, but Sehun had already caught the attention of another nurse.

“Excuse me,” Sehun said not even one minute after they left the room, “You know where Yeri is.”

“And Yoojung and Doyeon,” Jongdae added in a quieter voice.

The nurse looked at the two of them for a long moment, so long that Jongdae was afraid that she knew. His sureness flickered for a moment, was about to fade, but then the nurse pulled up her lips into a wide smile.

“I can’t remember the other two names, but try rehabilitation level one for the first. It’s a beautiful day! Have a good one!” she said before striding forwards without hearing their response.

“See?” Sehun said, smiling effortlessly as he looped his arm through Jongdae’s and lead the way, “Maybe we should’ve checked there first since we’ve been there before.”

But just because they had been there before did not mean they knew which corners to turn and what hallway the room was located. So even though Jongdae enjoyed none of it, as they walked, they stopped nurses to confirm they were heading in the right direction or not until they reached _that_ door.

“Of course it had to be this,” Jongdae said.

“Stick close,” Sehun said, putting his hand on the doorknob, “I’ll go first.” 

 

 

 

DO NOT LEAVE IF YOU ARE ANYTHING BUT HAPPY

 

 

 

 

Jongdae took his pill today, but he didn’t _feel_ like he should normally feel. Today he did not care if he had to disobey the sign anyways.

He supposed nothing would ever prepare him for the things he saw inside these doors, and even though he had already visited this room, he still could not shake the feeling that some things were so incredibly very wrong. This was a common feeling by now.

Jongdae instinctively reached for Sehun’s hand as the door shut behind them, the sound causing the people with those terrible smiles to look at them. All Sehun could do was just shake his head, shake his head wordlessly as he pressed his back to the wall and inched along first while Jongdae followed him.

It was those laughs, really.

Those laughs that didn’t sound funny, that didn’t sound even remotely natural, didn’t sound right at all. As Jongdae and Sehun moved past the people, some who lunged at them with their chains rattling begging them to believe that they were happy, they really _were_ , the laughter started sounding more like cackles.

“Do you see her,” Sehun whispered to Jongdae who could only shake his head as he scanned the rows and rows of people for Yeri.

Until now.

“There,” Jongdae soon said, pointing in the far corner of the room where a familiar girl sat, her eyebrows knitted upwards and her shoulders shaking with the effort it demanded to keep from laughing. But it was too much, it was always too much, and she routinely burst out with a screech of laughter.

“Do we have a—” Jongdae began to say before a man lunged at Sehun, grabbing his wrist tightly. Sehun let out a yell, struggling to free himself from the man’s grasp. But the man only pulled him closer to him yelling in between laughter.

“I’m happy,” he bellowed, “I’m _happy_ , I swear it. Let me go. You’ve made a bad mistake.”

“You’re _not_ ,” Jongdae forcefully said, pushing his face up next to the man, stunning him for a second enough so Sehun could pull his hand free, “You think you’re happy, but there’s a reason that you’re here, why they won’t let you leave. You are. Not. Happy.”

The man blinked, his lips curling downwards, but before he had time to respond, the alarm sounded. The gas had not even begun to spill out of the out of the crimson-flushed room, and yet Jongdae already felt his eyes tinged with tears.

 

 

 

LAUGH UNTIL YOU CRY UNTIL YOU LAUGH!

 

 

 

 

As expected, gas started hissing out of the vents as Jongdae and Sehun rushed towards Yeri with their hands over their mouths. But she was still chained, so the two of them uselessly tugged against the metal links. The effort cost them, and the harder they tried, the more gas they breathed in. Jongdae felt his shoulders begin to shake, and he let his hands fall from the chains as he was overcome with the shakes of laughter. Laughing this much brought more pain right now, and he clutched his stomach as he could not stop.

But Sehun never gave up and kept pulling on the chains unsuccessfully while he laughed.

Jongdae looked around the room for anything to break the chains with, but there was nothing. No conveniently hanging keys. No hammers to hit the chains with. There had to be a way…a way to break the chains. As he continued to laugh, powerless by the effects of the gas, he stared at the chains, looking at every link until he noticed how the last one was chained to a hook on the desk. No…it could not be.

Clip-on?

Jongdae mustered all of the energy he had left and pressed down upon one side of the bottom link. Sure enough, it bent inwards, letting him quickly pull the chain free. At this point, Jongdae gave up trying to not breathe in the gas completely, and focused on pushing Yeri and Sehun out of the room after he unclipped the other chain.

“You look suspicious,” Jongdae said between chuckles after they stumbled outside. Occasionally, nurses passed by them, and it took so much effort to simply hold their breath to stop them from bursting out in laughter.

“Let’s go,” Sehun said before laughing so hard he cried.

“It’s no use,” Yeri said between giggles, “You’ve tried to take me out before. It hasn’t worked. You shouldn’t be here anyways.”

“I promised,” Sehun said as he clutched his sides, “your mother.”

Yeri stopped speaking, pressing her lips together to suppress her laughter.

“She’s still fine,” Yeri said, waiting for Sehun to correct her, hoping he wouldn’t.

“Yes,” Sehun said, “She’s fine.”

Yeri nodded, just kept nodding. Some nurses that passed by didn’t spare a second look at Sehun and Jongdae, but looked at Yeri and the chains that still hung from her wrists.

“Let’s get her a uniform and find a way to break the chains,” Jongdae whispered to Sehun.

Sehun nodded, and the three of them walked with Yeri in the middle. All they had to do was pretend that they were escorting a patient, and all the nurses had to do was not ask questions.

“We’ve got this under control,” Sehun said to a doctor who stared a little too long at Yeri’s dangling chains, “If she runs, we’ll have her back in no time.”

“Testing,” Jongdae corrected a nurse who assumed they were taking her to clearance, whatever that was, “We’re taking her to testing, not clearance.”

By luck, the three of them managed to find the uniform room, and Jongdae and Sehun stood guard as Yeri changed inside.

“Okay. I’m ready,” she said as she emerged from inside and stood next to them outside.

“Act exactly like them,” Jongdae said after Yeri took her place between them in a new uniform, “And we’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Let’s find Yoojung and Doyeon first,” Yeri said, rubbing her wrist with a hand. Some employee was kind enough to unlock the chains for her inside the changing room. They were happy enough not to ask questions, too. “I can’t leave without them.”

“Right,” Sehun said, “Good idea.”

“No?” Jongdae said, “We already have Yeri, and it took us three tries to find her. Let’s go now before anyone sees us.”

“Three? I only remember the first time,” Yeri said, “You came back for me another time?”

“I’m your teacher,” Sehun said, “I can’t just leave my students behind.”

Yeri was silent for a moment.

“Thank you,” she said, “I didn’t think anyone remembered me when I was here. They always told us no one would remember us if we came home, that no one would remember us unless we were all right again.”

“It was luck, really,” Sehun said, “they forgot to get rid of all the paperwork. And your desks. They removed them in such an odd way.”

“This is very nice and all, but are we leaving or not?” Jongdae said, growing uneasy every time a nurse looked at them and passed them without saying a word, “If you don’t want to leave, then let’s hurry up and find your friends.”

“I told you they came before me here,” Yeri said, “I don’t know where they are now.”

“Okay,” Jongdae said and tapped a nurse on the shoulder as Yeri gasped in the background.

“You’ve seen Choi Yoojung and Kim Doyeon,” Jongdae said, so ready to leave as soon as possible. This was just the final thing to do.

“Oh, yes! I think I’ve seen them or heard of them. Try clearance,” the nurse beamed while pointing them in the direction.

“Thank you!” Jongdae nodded as he started walking in the direction as Sehun and Yeri followed.

Some nurses remarked that it was odd that Jongdae didn’t know where clearance was when he stated he was going in the right direction and hoped to be corrected. But if they weren’t detained, then things could not be that bad. Yeri seemed very happy to go to clearance, but Jongdae could not help but remember the way he had heard clearance mentioned before. Was this where they would be cleared to be reintegrated with society? Surely, yes. Yes?

Finally, they reached a room where cabinets had seemingly been installed inside the walls so they did not protrude from the flat surface.

“This can’t be it,” Yeri said, “This just looks like a place where you file papers.”

But Jongdae, who worked in an office for most of his life, knew exactly how papers were kept and filed away. And this was most definitely not it.

“It’s cold in here,” Sehun said, “Maybe there’s a room in the back where they’re kept.”

“Maybe they’re already gone,” Yeri said, “Maybe they’ve done their time and they’re back outside. That’s good.”

“Do you know their numbers,” Jongdae said, tracing a number outside of one of the drawers. The metal was not dull and looked as if it was polished or at least touched regularly.

“219 and 214,” Yeri replied, “they gave me a different number, so I guess that’s why I was away from them.”

Jongdae silently began passing by rows and rows of numbers. Not all the numbers were there in perfect order.

“Here,” Jongdae said as they stopped at the right numbers.

“Maybe their paperwork is here,” Yeri said, placing her hand on the handles, ready to open up the drawer. The numbers in between were missing, and 219 and 214 shared the same space. “It’ll tell us for sure if they’ve been released outside or not.”

Eagerly, she pulled open the drawer with a little more force than Jongdae would’ve thought necessary.

And there were Yoojung and Doyeon all right.

They lay so still, so motionlessly that Jongdae would’ve thought that they were sleeping had he not seen the line of staples pierced into their head to stitch back a deep gash that ran aside across their foreheads from temple to temple.

There was a still silence because what could else there be now?

What was there to even possibly be said?

Extensive funerals were not held in this society because no one was allowed to be not happy. When people died, there would be a single good-bye before the enforcers took the body away for good and three extra pills to take that day because of the understandable circumstances. So naturally death was something known but not spoken of, not forbidden but not openly discussed at all. There might as well have been just one state of existence after all, and it was not being alive.

Happiness.

It was happiness.

There really only was happiness in this society, and Jongdae who had seen too many things and heard too many secrets to be just happy was beginning to realize that there had to be more. There had to be more than just this.

A scream.

Another one echoed and sounded no different than the other screams Jongdae had heard today and all the days before.

But Yeri screamed for different reasons than the other patients screamed. The scream jumpstarted Jongdae’s heart and sped it along even though he was still staring at the little metal lines of the staples in the girls’ heads, the little lines of blood that were not completely hidden, the straightness of their cold, pale lips that were not, even now, curved upwards into a smile.

This couldn’t have happened to everyone, but it did. This shouldn’t have happened, but it did. It did. Things like this should not have happened and Jongdae thought that for the longest time that they did not happen because he had been told that upper management did not do these things. And yet they did. Oh, they did.

Yeri ran out of breath and ceased screaming. For a while, there was only the sound of her heavy breathing as she sought to catch her breath. But letting out a stream of loud words that Jongdae couldn’t even completely register, she slammed the metal surface back into the wall, hands shaking over her mouth. She took too many steps backwards until her back hit the cold metal of the row of stored bodies behind her, causing her to shriek again and rush out of the room.

Jongdae turned to Sehun with his heart on empty, with his mouth on mute, and wondered what were they to do now.

Sehun was no better than he and stood motionlessly, not even appearing to blink as he stared at the same spot where the bodies would have been.

“We should find her before that happens to her, too,” Sehun said after a while, not looking up.

Sehun’s words snapped Jongdae back into action and urged him onwards. After all, he didn’t know what would happen to both of them if they were caught. And if clearance were a possibility, then Jongdae would not rest until they were as far from this building as possible.

“We should get out before that happens to any of us, especially you,” Jongdae said, taking charge as he grabbed Sehun’s arm and lead them past the concealed rows of bodies.

But something must have gone wrong, someone must have seen and heard things while they were inside because a familiar nurse pointed at them when they walked outside onto the hallway.

“There,” she said, “It’s them.”

Jongdae’s mind shut down once again, but this time, only one word and flashed through his head again and again and again.

_Run, run, run, run, run._

Jongdae snatched up Sehun’s hand and ran. The nurses who didn’t know still let them pass without stopping them, but there was no point in relaxing even if no one was coming after them right now.

“We have to lose them,” Jongdae breathlessly said, looking behind him. No one had run after them, but it was only a matter of time, “They know these halls better than us. What if we’re cornered?”

“Then we give them more problems to worry about,” Sehun said as he looked inside a room filled with people that they had stopped next to. None of them wore chains, but still stood perfectly still with their hands folded on their laps.

“Get _out_ ,” he bellowed, startling the people inside. Jongdae waited by the open door and stared at Sehun, taking in the striking way he gazed at the crowd, the fluid way his hand moved as he directed people outside.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said so quietly that Sehun had to lean closer to hear him, still while holding open the door.

“Yes,” Sehun said.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said a little louder, “I don’t think I can recognize you now.”

And it was true. Gone was his perpetually happy Sehun, and gone were the days the only thing Sehun cared about was what was for dinner or what they were going to do together on the weekend. Long gone was the Sehun he knew. That Sehun died the day he refused to take his pills.

“That’s not bad,” Sehun said before hastily adding as soon as Jongdae continued staring at him silently, “Right?”

Jongdae almost laughed.

“Of course not…Not at all,” Jongdae shook his head, “I’ve learned to love this new you, too.”

Jongdae would fall in love with any version of Sehun tall or not, happy or not. And in this life, Jongdae had already fallen in love with Sehun once when they were much younger, so now recently he had the pleasure of falling in love all over again. He didn’t think he would ever stop falling.

Sehun flashed Jongdae a smile, the type that he'd always have no matter who he was. Jongdae almost forgot to breathe as he watched the way Sehun’s eyes turned into crescents when he was too happy to control his expression.

“Oh,” Jongdae said in a hushed voice as he let out a bubble of laughter.

“What is it?” Sehun said, “Did some of the gas leak out from somewhere? Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing,” Jongdae said, almost dizzy from this feeling, “I’m just so in love, Sehun. When we make it out of here, I’m going to hold you in our bed, hum to you until you fall asleep, and never let go. Even if my alarm goes off the next day. I want a forever with you, Sehun. Let’s go.”

This was probably the wrong time for these thoughts considering the chaos around them, but what was life if there was no time for love?

Sehun looked away from Jongdae and looked into the distant hallways ahead. Still no enforcers or nurses rushed to the scene to stop the patients from escaping, but they were a long way away from the elevator.

“It’s for forever, this kind of love. We’re forever, you and me,” Sehun smiled, holding out his hand to Jongdae.

Jongdae took his hand like always and began to walk in the opposite direction of the patients. Things would be fine. They would make it. They could probably even come home by 8:00 if they drove a little faster than normal.

No one stopped them as they walked through the hallways, not even to talk. Most of the nurses they saw running only discussed the best method to recover patients. They had done well, distracting the nurses with all those loose patients.

So naturally, Jongdae felt very good about their chances of escaping, especially when they had finally reached the glass elevator that would take them back to the upper world.

It had even dinged pleasantly and opened its doors for them to step in.

But before any of them could take a step further, Sehun let out a yell, causing Jongdae to turn around. Two nurses had grabbed him and attempted to pull him backwards. There was still time to enter the elevator because the two nurses that were running towards Jongdae had not managed to catch him yet. But with a yell, Jongdae turned around, not even bothering to watch the elevator doors close as he threw himself at one of the nurses and tried to pull her off of Sehun. After all, there was no point to anything, no point to life if Sehun was not with him.

After a while, once he felt the nurses grab him and pull him and Sehun along away from the elevator, Jongdae sighed and stopped dragging his feet. If Sehun were lost, then so he would be as well.

“Hey Jongdae,” Sehun said as they were marched through countless white halls that looked all the same.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, turning to look at Sehun while the nurses who looked all the same looked forward. He felt the hands on his arms tighten after he spoke.

“Remember to turn off the living room lights before you go to sleep,” Sehun said, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly.

“Of course I won’t,” Jongdae said before asking, “Why?”

The nurses exchanged looks after Jongdae asked a question, but he didn’t care. He didn’t suppose there would be anything that could be done about it now.

“Just remember,” Sehun replied, and said nothing more as they turned a corner for yet another time. Jongdae promised he would.

For however long was next, the two of them continued to be led through the halls, passing by countless doors. Jongdae wondered where they lead, what else they could hold.

It couldn’t be much worse than dead bodies, he supposed.

“Hey Jongdae,” Sehun said as they were ushered into another glass elevator. This one was different, as there was only concrete blocking the view upwards. The only way to go was down.

“Yes?” Jongdae said, turning to look at Sehun while the elevator slowly descended.

“Remember to park your car on our driveway on Monday mornings so the street cleaners won’t ticket you,” Sehun said, staring downwards.

“Of course I wont,” Jongdae said as he moved his gaze downwards, “Why?”

Even now, Jongdae didn’t know how deep into the ground this building lead to, as there was only a bright light waiting at the bottom, an endless abyss of nothing but white.

“Just remember,” Sehun replied, and said nothing more as the elevator finally stopped and the glass doors slid open. Jongdae promised he would.

Jongdae was not surprised to find more blank hallways waiting for them as they were pushed out of the elevators. He made sure to stay side by side with Sehun, always walking where he could just turn his head and have Sehun a glance away. After a while, the nurses lead them to a group of darkly dressed figures with their faces concealed.

Enforcers.

As enforcement took over and grabbed their arms more roughly, Jongdae supposed they were in as much trouble as he thought. The enforcers walked them faster than the nurses did, pulling the both of them along and dragging their bodies if they walked too slowly for their liking.

It was only now, now as Jongdae almost tripped from the speed of which they were pulling him along, that he realized that there was not going to be an easy way out of this. Perhaps there was a part of him that previously thought they could just pop some pills and walk out good as new promising to mind their business. But as the enforcers threw them in an empty room and shut the door, Jongdae realized that no. No. That was impossible.

Sehun took a seat on the floor and sat with his back straight, staring at one point in the room. Jongdae walked around the room tracing the walls, looking for any place they could escape to. But there were no windows, not even a door, as the door they had entered had no doorknob to lead back out. Jongdae closed his eyes for a second to rest his eyes from all the blinding white.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said softly, causing Jongdae to open his eyes and turn to look at him. Sehun had pulled his knees to his chest and hugged himself as he continued staring at the wall in front of him.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, walking towards him before kneeling at Sehun’s side, “I’m here.”

“Remember to be happy. In your own way of course,” Sehun said, reaching out with his free hand to touch Jongdae’s cheek before letting his hand fall.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, catching Sehun’s hand before sitting next to him, “But why? You’ll be there to remind me even if I forget. You'll be there to make me happy when I'm not.”

“Just remember,” Sehun said, attempting to smile before he gave up, “okay?”

“Of course,” Jongdae nodded, wondering why Sehun had continually asked him to remember these little things.

They sat together in silence, hands clasped, hearts beating wildly. Jongdae had his watch to tell the time, and though only fifteen minutes had passed, it seemed much longer, almost like an eternity. But if it was an eternity, at least forever was spent with Sehun. Eventually the door opened again, and they were ushered into a room filled with bookshelves. Jongdae had never seen that many books before.

They were pushed into two chairs, a clean desk separating them from a large chair that looked quite comfortable. Perhaps this was someone’s office.

A woman walked in with a grin on her face and sat down, taking her time to fold her hands together on the desk.

“We’re going home,” Jongdae instantly demanded, wasting no time at all. From the corner of his eye he could see Sehun turn to look at him, but he kept his gaze on the woman in front of them. She seemed like she was in charge, though she only sat completely still and continued smiling.

“We’re going home,” Jongdae said again, though his voice faltered slightly at the end of his sentence.

The woman continued to sit and smile.

“We’ll be going home now,” Jongdae said, shifting his body to move before he was interrupted.

“No,” the woman said at last, maintaining her perfect posture and perfect smile, “It was just funny to me that you think you are still going to be able to leave after everything you’ve seen and done.”

The woman’s words made Jongdae freeze for a moment, but before he could fully register what was said, he continued speaking.

“We are,” Jongdae corrected.

“You are not,” the woman said.

“I work for you,” Jongdae said, “I’m the best distributor in my division, and I have to go to work tomorrow. So if you’ll excuse me and my–”

“No,” the woman said, “you don’t.”

Jongdae paused for a moment, sorting through the many things flashing through his brain to try and string together a good response.

“Let me call my boss from upper management then,” Jongdae said a second later. Perhaps a different approach would work. “You’ll be sorry you think that.”

“Oh,” the woman said, stretching her lips further upwards if that was even possible, “but this isn’t upper management.”

“Well this can’t be anything else. There’s only upper management,” Jongdae said.

He had sat through too many orientations and information sessions about upper management and their activities to give in to this new truth so easily. Even if these were the lower levels, upper management owned this whole building.

“This isn’t upper management,” the woman repeated before sweeping her arm across the table, “welcome to lower management. We know you will enjoy your long stay.”

Lower management.

“Lower management can’t exist,” Jongdae immediately said even though he knew better now and knew it did. Oh, it did. But he spoke to incite a response, a correction that would give even just a glimpse of an explanation.

“Yes,” the woman said, “That’s what you’re supposed to think. And yet we’re here having this conversation. It doesn’t look good for you.”

“What does lower management do?” Sehun quietly asked, “I thought everything was supervised by upper management.” Jongdae shot him a look to be careful because this of all places was the last place for questions. But Sehun kept his gaze averted and placed very carefully on the edge of the desk.

“You know,” the woman said after a short pause, “all the things you should not have seen. Rehabilitation. Clearance. All the other things you are not allowed to know and should not know.”

“Clearance,” Sehun said, his gaze flicking upwards, “You killed two of my students.”

“You’ll have to be more specific,” the woman laughed, “unfortunately many have to be cleared. It’s just how things are, so you can’t expect me to remember everyone.”

“Their names were Choi Yoojung and Kim Doyeon,” Sehun said, “and I saw their bodies, saw the deep cuts on their heads you tried to staple back together. Did you do that while they were still alive? What did you do to them? Why did you do that to them?”

The woman started staring and smiling again. For a while no one dared to speak until she broke the silence.

“You ask a lot of questions,” she said, “No worries, that will be fixed soon enough.”

“He’s going home,” Jongdae said, reaching across to hold Sehun’s hand. Sehun took a while to respond, his fingers slowly curling onto Jongdae’s. “He’s going home with me now.”

“Correction,” the woman said, “You are both not going home.”

Jongdae took a moment to breathe.

“Okay,” Jongdae said, “You can take me and do whatever you wish, but at least let Sehun go. This was my fault. I had a duty to be a good distributor, and I led him here.”

“No,” Sehun shook his head, raising his voice, “No, Jongdae. Never. This is my fault…I dragged you here, and –”

“This is nice that we’re fixing some of the lies here,” the woman said, “But both of you will not make it out of here. Not at least for a long time. And the state in which you exit this building, well. That depends.”

“Let him go and I will give you the names of those that have a tendency against happiness,” Jongdae said, preparing to give up his whole list, preparing to lie, preparing to do whatever it took if it meant Sehun would walk free.

The woman stopped to think, a smile still frozen on her mouth. Jongdae hated that smile.

“No,” the woman said, “the both of you caused more damage, these things need to be covered up, and you need to forget.”

“It’s done,” Jongdae said, “I forgot. I don’t even know where I am. Who are you?”

But he realized his mistake when he asked the last question as the woman’s lips curled up even higher.

“That’s nice, but you’re too far gone for that to work. Only one person has gotten as far as you, perhaps even further than you, and we made the mistake of accidentally letting them escape. We will not make that mistake again,” she said while raising her hand in the air and flashing a cue causing the enforcers to return into the room, some holding guns.

Sehun observed them silently, but Jongdae turned, gripping Sehun’s hand tighter as he began to rapidly plead, to beg, at least Sehun, not Sehun, anyone but Sehun. But the woman only laughed, opened her mouth and was just about to speak before the phone on the table began to ring.

“Hello! I’m happy! You are, too!” the woman said, but her face tightened as soon as she heard what was said on the other side.

“That can’t be right,” the woman said, shooting a look at Jongdae.

“No,” the woman said, “That is not right. He is just like the other. Both of them must stay until we fix them, and if we can’t fix them, then—”

“That’s not right,” the woman said, remembering to smile, “I—”

After she heard something more, she pressed his lips together exhaled.

“Very well. I will bring this up at the next meeting because I do not agree, but for now, we will proceed and only detain the distributor’s pair,” the woman said.

What?

“Oh,” Sehun said as the enforcers rushed towards them, and for a moment, all he could do was look at Jongdae. Of course even now it was only ever Jongdae.

Sehun breathed, his shoulders sagging, while Jongdae struggled to understand what was happening, what should not be happening.

“No,” Jongdae shook his head, “That’s impossible. I can’t leave without you.”

“I’m glad,” Sehun said, the enforcers almost upon them.

“Sehun,” Jongdae shouted, shaking his head wildly as he fought to do something, to do _anything_ , “No, you can’t…You _can’t_.” He immediately latched himself to Sehun’s body, swinging his arms over him and pressing his body to his as if he could stop this, as if he could single-handedly prevent this from happening, as if the enforcers would be powerless as soon as they saw how truly, really, deeply Jongdae loved and was loved in return.

But they didn’t care.

Of course they didn’t.

Those that were happy they left alone, and those that were not in the way they wanted? Never.

To his credit, Sehun seemed calm even though he was the one taken away.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said as he held Jongdae as closely as he could against him like it was the first time, like it was the last time he would have Jongdae like this in his arms. And as Jongdae stared up at him to memorize a face he already memorized, Sehun smiled.

It was not the smile that he had shown every day, forced every day as he faked his way through and showed the other people in society to pass safely, and it was most certainly not the unnatural smile that mechanically kept his lips frozen and upwards.

  
But it was a true smile, a smile that felt so real even though Sehun’s gaze softened, even though his eyebrows had tilted upwards into a mixture of an emotion Jongdae didn’t want to name right now. It was a smile that tore Jongdae’s heart apart, and he was sure if he leaned in to kiss Sehun’s lips right now, all he’d taste would be something bitter, something sweet, something beyond his reach.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said as Jongdae screamed as he held on tighter, pressing his head into Sehun’s chest, wrapping his arms around Sehun’s body. He felt the enforcers’ arms try and separate them, and for a moment, they succeeded, ripping Jongdae from Sehun. But Jongdae reached his arm out like he had reached out at breakfast, at dinner, at all times when they were together. And like yesterday, like today, and like always, Sehun reached back out and caught Jongdae’s hand in time. Jongdae had never more appreciated the way they fit together in this single moment.

By now, there was only a split second to say something, to say anything, but Jongdae could only continue to scream Sehun’s name.

“Jongdae,” Sehun shouted one last time as their hands were torn apart, as the enforcers dragged Sehun away, as Jongdae was left alone but not, alive but not.

“REMEMBER ME.”


	3. Chapter 3

It was 7:00 when Jongdae woke up to the piercing blare of his alarm.

Yawning, he stretched and switched off the alarm on his watch as the sunlight streamed through the curtains. The day had already begun, the sun already up, but Jongdae still felt cold under his blankets.

Jongdae allowed himself to curl up in his blankets for a moment longer before blearily rubbing his eyes and trying to remember if there was any leftover work from yesterday he had to finish. But he slowly sat up as he fumbled through his memories, sorting through yesterday, the day before yesterday, the days before yesterday, only to realize he couldn’t remember.

Jongdae took a deep breath, looking around his room at the familiar things he recognized. There was the closet he always kept his clothes in, just where he remembered it last. There was the door leading to the showers and the bathroom, just where he remembered it last. There was the watch he always wore on his wrist, just where he…

Feeling a little strange, Jongdae slipped off his watch as he examined every detail, the dark leather, slightly wrinkled from what would seem like years of use, the little hand that still ticked reliably. He didn’t know what he was trying to do, so he clutched the wrist in one fist before he lowered his head into his hands, trying to remember, remember, _remember_ …there must be some work that he had to do.

But soon it was 7:10, so Jongdae straightened up and walked to the showers because he didn’t want to be late for work. He couldn’t be late for work.

At 7:30, Jongdae began making breakfast, humming under his breath while he retrieved two eggs from the refrigerator. Maybe he just woke up differently today. Maybe he just had a strange dream he couldn’t remember. But it wasn’t anything the pills could not fix.

Jongdae couldn’t remember why he took two eggs instead of one from the refrigerator since he lived alone, but he made two anyways. And when he sat down to eat at the table, much too big for just one person, he couldn’t remember why he stretched his hand across the wood because there was no one there to catch his hand and hold it back. He kept his hand there anyways.

Jongdae ate his breakfast in silence, staring around his house because he didn’t have anything else to do, anyone else to talk to. His life couldn’t be this boring, could it? Surely there must be more to life than work, just silence, just solitude. Right? Maybe this was why he remembered nothing of yesterday. If every day were the same, then perhaps nothing would be worth remembering.

Before he drove off to work, Jongdae pulled out his own personal container of pills. At least he still remembered to take them. He didn’t know what type of consequence there’d be if he didn’t.

Some people said they felt different after the pill, that they felt more noticeably happier than before. But today as Jongdae placed the white pill in his mouth and drank some water, he didn’t really notice a difference. Of course, he could feel the corners of his mouth stretching up into a wide grin, but somehow, he still felt the same. Oh, he felt the same. No buzz in his chest, no brightness in his mind. Nothing.

But that was odd.

He couldn’t work as a pill distributor if he wasn’t truly, completely _happy_. And if he felt like this all the same, if he couldn’t remember much, then he couldn’t work like this. So he tried to force the smile that was already on his lips to reach his eyes because he had to be happy. Everyone _had_ to be happy. To maintain the desired happy society, this was how things always happened. This was how things were supposed to be.

Jongdae drove to work at 8:00 keeping his lips stretched, refusing to let his smile drop from his face. Maybe if he waited long enough the pill would activate completely. Maybe if he smiled long enough he’d feel happy.

As he waited in his car, driving up the line to receive the pills he had to accept for the day, he hummed a fast-paced song, one he couldn’t quite remember how it began. He kept both hands on the steering wheel, but dropped them to his lap and laced his fingers together as he parked, waiting to move up. He didn’t know why he was twisting the skin of his fourth finger because there wasn’t any ring there to play with, but he did anyways.

“Hello!” the cheerful attendant said as she held out his briefcase full of pills, “It’s a beautiful day today! I’m so happy!”

“Right! I’m happy, too,” Jongdae tried to match the enthusiasm of the attendant as best as he could. If she noticed anything different with Jongdae, she said nothing, but merely waved before turning back to lift the next briefcase for the next distributor in line.

“I’m _happy_ ,” Jongdae loudly repeated as he drove off to start today’s distribution. He kept the corners of his mouth lifted, but his muscles began to shake from the unnatural force.

Distribution went smoothly, and Jongdae supposed he wasn’t the best distributor for nothing. Mrs. Kim and her young daughter were always first, always easy because all Jongdae had to do was just be present as Mrs. Kim made sure her daughter took her pill anyways. Kyungsoo was always somewhere in the middle of all the names, always compliant. At least Jongdae remembered how he liked to take his pill and held it out for him instead of dropping it into his hand. But his last client was some Jung Soojung. Today, Jongdae had to check the name and address multiple times to make sure it was right. He couldn’t remember Soojung…but he didn’t doubt it since there were a lot of things he apparently couldn’t remember nowadays.

Soojung took her pill without complaints, never once saying anything, but never once hesitating. She shut her door in Jongdae’s face before he could finish saying good-bye for the day.

After Jongdae finished distribution, he drove to work and sat in his desk, finding everything where they should be. But then, he supposed, that since his desk had nothing but a lamp on it, of course this was how he remembered it. It was how anyone would remember it. There were no post-it notes he wrote to remind himself of work related things, no stacks of paper waiting for him to get through, no empty mugs of coffee. There weren’t even any pictures to crowd his desk.

But then, he supposed, if he lived alone, then of course there wouldn’t be any pictures of anyone else on his desk.

Jongdae tried to begin his work for the day, but all the whispering, all the eyes that glanced over distracted him. Usually he would’ve kept his head down and continued his work, but today, Jongdae kept his pen pressed to his paper, attempting to seem busy as he listened.

_Oh, Jongdae. It’s too bad._

_I suppose it can happen to anyone then._

_But why him? He’s one of our best._

_He’s our best._

_I guess anyone can lose their pair._

His pair?

Oh, his _pair_.

Quietly, Jongdae dropped his pen on the blank, white piece of paper before walking as casually as he could to Yixing’s office. But there were too many eyes, too much whispering, and there were so many things to say, so he started walking faster and faster until he broke out into a jog that slowed into a walk again when the wrong people were watching him.

“Yixing,” Jongdae said, trying to seem perfectly normal when he reached his office, startling him with his state.

“I have time to help you now if you need,” Yixing smiled as he dropped his own pen on his desk.

“I…I,” Jongdae stammered, trying to make sense of the realization, trying to make sense of what had happened, what didn’t happen, what he couldn’t remember.

“Take a seat,” Yixing calmly said, spreading his arm to gesture at the chair in front of him.

Jongdae collapsed into the seat, fingers flying to nervously touch the skin of his fourth finger. There was nothing there, so he moved to twist his watch, fidgeting nervously before he blurted out his statement.

“I don’t have a pair. But everyone has one,” Jongdae said. Perhaps this was what he couldn’t remember this morning.

“Ah,” Yixing said, leaning back in his chair away from Jongdae, “ _Ah_.”

Yixing took a deep breath, spinning his chair to look out of the tall windows of his office. Today, some people dressed in black piled into another unmarked van and drove off. Today, Jongdae would have requested information on what they were doing if he wasn’t so occupied with a pair he didn’t have.

“There’s something wrong with me,” Jongdae offered, waiting to be corrected. He had to be corrected. He had to be wrong about this. “No one’s matched with me. I really have no one then. Not a single pair.”

Yixing spun around completely, turning his back to Jongdae. Jongdae stared at the back of Yixing’s chair one moment longer, about to say something else before Yixing rapidly spun around with a grin. If it was meant to be comforting, Yixing failed.

“You don’t have a pair yet, Jongdae,” Yixing said, his fingers tightening over the skin of his hands as he held them together, “But everything is all right with you. Everyone is meant to have a pair, and there is nothing wrong with you if you have not found yours yet.”

“Oh,” Jongdae sagged in his chair, “You’re sure. Usually people find their pairs before my age…any type of pair at all. There really is something wrong with me.”

“Nothing,” Yixing hastily said, “Nothing at all. You’re just too…too happy, and I suppose no one’s been able to match your level of happiness or amplify it. Your pair should make you happier than you were before, not destroy your happiness. That would not be good.”

Jongdae shook his head.

“So I’ll find a pair,” Jongdae said, “I must know them. Usually pairs are people you know, people you’ve grown strong attachments to.”

But he realized there was no one.

“We’ll see,” Yixing said, “Just focus on your work. I’m sure you’ll find a pair sometime in the future.”

“Right,” Jongdae nodded before standing up. Outside the window, the van had driven back, and as the door swung open, it took the darkly dressed people three seconds pull a person outside of the van, three seconds to stab them with something that made them fall unconscious after they resisted, and eight seconds to drag them inside.

“That’s—” Jongdae began to say, pointing out of the window before Yixing pulled the curtains shut.

“Back to work,” Yixing said, and while he still smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

So Jongdae went back to work because he swore he was happy, and happy people minded their own business and did as they were told.

After work, Jongdae returned home at 6:00 with nothing but silence and a vacant house to greet him. If he had lived his whole life like this, leaving and coming home to such an empty house, then maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t remember much.

Jongdae followed his routine on time, though ran slightly late as he had to cook himself dinner and wash the dishes all by himself. Perhaps he had more energy in the past since he could finish this all on time.

Exhausted, Jongdae went to bed shortly afterwards after checking his watch one last time. He almost forgot to turn off the living room lights, but remembered just in time to turn around and fix that. After finally laying down in bed, Jongdae tried to smile one last time for the day, trying to feel what should have been reflected on his countenance.

He soon gave up and closed his eyes.

 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae woke up the next morning at 7:00 hoping yesterday had been one long dream, one temporary nightmare he could wake up from.

But when he rolled over his bed, he was only met with empty space. When he stretched out his hands and legs into the sheets, he only felt cold fabric no one had slept in. And when he disappointedly pushed himself up, he saw unwrinkled sheets, undented pillows next to him.

Had he always been alone?

Jongdae took a deep breath and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t force himself to get up and go to work. With a sigh, he sank back into his bed, pulling the sheets closer to him and draped his extra pillow over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend someone else was with him, keeping him warm, keeping him company.

It didn’t work.

After several minutes passed, Jongdae finally kicked himself out of bed a little later than usual because he knew he couldn’t be late to work, and if he were late to work, then some bad things would happen. Jongdae never knew what specifically were those bad things, but he didn’t want to find out.

At 7:30 he made himself two eggs even though he only had the heart to eat one, and left for the day after taking the pill.

Strangely, he felt the same before and after he took it. Of course he felt like he had a little more energy, of course his lips stretched up, of course anyone who looked at him would suspect nothing was wrong. But he didn’t feel it. He still felt more or less the same throughout the early morning even though he forced himself to work through his distribution and reports.

There was a certain deep hole in Jongdae’s chest that drained him of his energy as the day passed by. Every time he interacted with his co-workers, he wondered if they could tell it was growing harder for him to effortlessly reciprocate their sentiments.

“It’s a beautiful day, Jongdae! I’m so happy,” one of his co-workers greeted him as she walked down the white hallway of their office before disappearing into a door, her heels clicking on the perpetually polished floor.

“It is! I am happy, too,” Jongdae said as energetically as possible.

“Hello, Jongdae! Everything’s so good today! I’m so happy!” one of his co-workers beamed as he shared an elevator ride with him.

“Hello! It is! Good. I’m happy,” Jongdae said, feeling that it took more effort to match their level of enthusiasm. Did these people cheat? Did they take two pills? Or more? They were all distributors, so they had access to extra pills. He quickly dismissed that thought because if distributors couldn’t enforce the proper pill habits on themselves, then they couldn’t be trusted with delivering pills to others.

So there was only one logical reason that made sense.

There was something wrong with him.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae tried to hide what he thought as he continued working, continued living, tried to do his best to keep up with everyone. He was a better actor than he thought, and so far no one asked him any questions, no one stared at him a little longer than usual, no one seemed any different around him. So he thought he had some time to figure out how to fix himself before upper management realized he was unfit for his job. Distributors were the happiest people, and Jongdae didn’t think he was anymore. Perhaps in the past during days he couldn’t quite remember, foggy moments he couldn’t quite grasp.

But not now.

During work, though, he hid his uncertainty through offering to help wherever he could.

If his co-workers needed any help with their paperwork, Jongdae wouldn’t even need to offer his help. He would just do it for them without asking. At least that way he could keep his mind on work, make sure everyone knew he was still an effective and proficient employee, and that he was happy. He really was.

If Yixing needed any help, Jongdae would have to offer because Yixing was the floor manager and Jongdae knew he didn’t have clearance for certain things. But if there was anything he could do to help, he would.

“I really insist,” Jongdae asked, sitting down in Yixing’s chair across from his desk.

“Don’t worry,” Yixing smiled, his dimples showing easily, “I assume you’ve finished your work already if you’re looking for more things to do.”

“Yes,” Jongdae answered, folding his hands together, “I’m sure there must be something I can do. Surely you must be busy with work.”

“Relax, Jongdae,” Yixing smiled, “It’s normal for you to feel…”

“Happy,” Jongdae said, worried Yixing picked up on him.

Yixing raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Yes—”

The sound of Yixing’s intercom interrupted them both.

“We’ve got a visual on 338. Permission to—” it crackled out of the speaker as Yixing hastily picked up his phone and listened to the rest of the message before turning away from Jongdae.

“Yes. Proceed cautiously. Send me updates as soon as anything happens,” Yixing said before placing the phone back.

338.

That number again.

Jongdae had heard that number so many times before…but what was 338? Asking questions about things was not admired or valued in this society. But Jongdae still wanted to know, so he spoke in order to make Yixing correct him or say something.

“338 is a person,” Jongdae guessed out loud. Yixing looked up and stretched the corners of his lips wider.

“Yes,” Yixing said, “A person we’ve been trying to catch.”

“The enforcers are looking for them…They’ve been taking their black cars and their darkly-dressed people around. I’ve seen them,” Jongdae said again, trying to keep the questioning out of the tone of his voice.

“You’re perceptive. Interesting,” Yixing said after a slight pause, “But yes. He’s been skipping his pills, you know. And we all know a person like that cannot survive in this society.”

“He—But he has,” Jongdae said again, trying to refrain from asking any questions, “You’ve been trying to catch him for a long time. Unsuccessfully.”

“You must be feeling odd,” Yixing said instead, leaning across to press his hand on Jongdae’s forehead.

“I’m fine,” Jongdae said, heart leaping to his chest. What if Yixing knew? “Why wouldn’t I be?”

His mistake.

A question.

Yixing looked at him in surprise.

“Jongdae, I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear that, but take the rest of the day off,” he ordered, “Rest a little. Feel better for tomorrow.”

Jongdae was stunned. It was only one question…one question and Yixing already thought he wasn’t all right. But what if it was something more? What if Yixing knew? What if Yixing knew?

“I know things have been…interesting lately,” Yixing said, looking away from Jongdae as he pulled a stack of papers towards him, “But that’s not your fault. Things will be good soon. So be happy.”

Jongdae stretched his smile as far as he could and thanked Yixing before leaving.

He didn’t hear the phone calls Yixing made with urgent whispering after he left.

When Jongdae came home early, he walked straight to the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing water in his face and shuddering slightly from the shock. For a while, he only stood in front of the mirror, the air hitting his damp skin. So cold. With wide eyes, he could only grip the corners of the sink and stare into the mirror, his reflection staring back.

Who he saw looking back at him from the mirror did not look like a proper member of this society. If Jongdae saw this person right now walking on the street looking this exposed, this cold, this tired, then he would have questioned if they had been taking their pills properly.

He blinked.

The person blinked back.

He took a deep breath.

The person’s chest rose as well.

He exhaled.

The person’s chest, too, fell.

Jongdae finally gazed at himself, the full realization of who he was right now sinking in.

Something was not right, yes.

Some things had not been right, yes.

Frowning, he tilted his head slightly.

“I’m happy,” he slowly said. He had been saying these words so often in his life, and yet, today, the vowels sounded unfamiliar and the syllables sounded forced.

“I’m…happy,” he tried again. He didn’t look it.

“I’m _happy_ ,” he said, a little louder. He didn’t feel it.

Unsatisfied, Jongdae lifted his hands from the sink, the water still running, and poked the edges of his lips with his fingers to stretch them upwards.

But when he lifted his fingers, his mouth drooped. Dropped.

He tried again and lifted his fingers to his lips, trying to force a smile as he made his eyes warmer. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t.

In this society, in order to be right, to be good, happiness was required. Happiness was the only way to be, the only way to feel. So if Jongdae couldn’t be happy…if he wasn’t happy at all, then upper management would not be happy. And when upper management was not happy, well. Jongdae only heard whispered rumors of what happened.

So he tried harder.

Tried again.

Tried harder.

“I’m happy,” Jongdae said, and while his hands clutched the edge of the sink again, this time he forced a smile on his lips without the aid of any outside force.

“I’m happy,” he said, unsure why his vision began blurring.

“I really _am_ ,” he said, feeling the urge to hysterically laugh as something spilled onto his cheeks and trickled down his face. See? He was happy. He was happy…Look at him laughing! His smiling!

Eventually, after who knew how long, he realized the water was just tears, the laughter just sobs, and the happiness something very much not.

He wished that instead of his arms hugging himself, someone else’s arms would hold him, instead of him leaning against the wall he could lean against someone’s chest, and instead of this solitude he could confide in someone. But after hours and hours of this, dinner forgotten and time ignored all the same, the wall was still cold, Jongdae’s heart was still empty, and no one else ever came.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

The next morning at 7:50, Jongdae stared at the canister of pills he held in his hand as he sat in his car, prepared to drive off to work.

If he had felt so badly earlier, then was there a point in taking them? Was there something wrong with them?

But Jongdae _had_ to take his pills, so he popped one in his mouth and hoped it would make him feel better than he had felt before.

It didn’t.

Not completely.

But he still had a job to do, so Jongdae hoped no one would see through his calculated laughing, the little stretched smiles he greeted his co-workers and clients with.

If anyone noticed anything, they said nothing.

Jongdae was careful this time, much more careful when he was around the others. He made sure to phrase his responses without questions like they had been taught when they were younger, made sure to keep his humming to a minimum voice level like they had been told, and to smile brightly, just as expected.

“You’re looking so much better today, Jongdae,” Yixing said as Jongdae dropped off some paperwork on his desk.

“Of course,” Jongdae chuckled mechanically, “I’m so happy. I think you must’ve found 338 as well if you look this happy, too.”

Yixing returned the chuckle, and seemed to debate with himself whether to say anything or not. He responded anyways.

“We haven’t found him yet, but we’ve tracked down his location,” Yixing lowered his voice, “He’s frequenting the populated places so it will be harder for us to catch him.”

“I guess it must be easy for him to survive since the markets are the busiest parts of the city. He has no shortage of food,” Jongdae said.

“Yes,” Yixing said, nodding slowly, “That’s where he’s been spotted…Near the markets and the parks. But we risk…Never mind. You have work. It’s time for you to go.”

Jongdae wanted to ask what they risked, but he just smiled and left. One day he would know. Somehow he would know without asking.

For the rest of the day, he felt average. Perhaps not as happy as he knew he had to be, but it wasn’t bad.

So the next day, Jongdae was faced with a decision again as he stared at the pill canister that he held in his hand. If he felt the same, then there really was no point in taking them if they were faulty, right? Who would know anyways? As long as Jongdae smiled, he didn’t think anyone would really question.

If 338 could survive without pills, then…

But he wasn’t 338.

He was Kim Jongdae. Distributor. Alone. Happy.

 _Happy_.

Happy.

So Jongdae still took his pill like he had done for every single day of his life and drove to work. Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like if he was the one receiving pills from other distributors instead of regulating himself. Maybe it was easier when someone smiling and cheerful encouraged pill consumption.

Maybe it was easier when they had pairs.

But Jongdae didn’t have a pair, didn’t have anyone to speak to when it was lunch break and everyone called their pairs. He didn’t have anyone to happily come home to after a long day of work, and he most certainly did not have anyone he could talk to about this…about whatever he had been feeling.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, interrupting Jongdae from his thoughts, “You look thoughtful. You’re thinking of something hard.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, still staring into nowhere. Without thinking, he began to twist the skin of his fourth finger near his knuckle. He didn’t know when he had picked up such a habit.

Yixing glanced at Jongdae’s behavior and spoke again.

“You’re all right,” he said, daring Jongdae to correct him.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, finally looking at Yixing, “Of course I am. After all, we’re all happy, and we all have pairs who make us happy.”

He trusted that he stared hard enough at Yixing for him to understand. The side of Yixing’s lips quirked up for a second, and he looked away, unable to meet Jongdae’s eyes for some reason.

“You’re fine, Jongdae,” Yixing said, “You have a pair. Whether you’re with them or not right now.”

“I do,” Jongdae said, trying to keep the questioning tone away from his voice. He sat up straighter, daring Yixing to correct him. Yixing didn’t. He stared at Jongdae for a while before smiling and nodding.

“Yes,” Yixing said, “Don’t worry. Everyone has a pair. You do, too.”

Jongdae didn’t trust himself to speak and turned back, preparing to return to his desk. If no one else, he had work, and work had him. Yixing kept his mouth open, prepared to say something even further, but a voice crackled out from the static of his phone’s speaker.

“We’re on 338—” the voice said as Yixing hurriedly pressed the message to his ear before Jongdae could wonder.

Jongdae wondered anyways.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

At 7:00 the next morning, Jongdae woke up to find a man sleeping beside him.

A man with long limbs sprawled across the bed that Jongdae inched off of to hurriedly avoid. A man with messy brown bangs that stuck out in different directions as he slept. A man Jongdae didn’t know.

There was probably a very logical explanation that anyone would believe as to why there was an unfamiliar man in his bed. And while Jongdae had the urge to scream, he couldn’t be loud, so he stood off of the bed and in a very small voice, spoke.

“I don’t know you,” he said.

The man continued snoring.

“I don’t know you,” Jongdae said a little louder. But there was still no response.

So Jongdae, feeling a rush of something dangerous in himself, picked up a pillow and hit the man as hard as he could. The man woke up with a start, sputtering as he opened his eyes and woke. Jongdae held the pillow defensively as the man sat up from the bed to meet his gaze.

“I don’t know you,” Jongdae demanded, waiting for the man to explain.

“Yes you do,” the man blinked, rubbing his eyes as he peered at Jongdae closer, “You’re my pair.”

Jongdae stared at the man before laughing genuinely. Oh that was so funny! That was funny! That was so! Funny! He hadn’t heard such a good joke in such a long time.

“You’re not my pair,” Jongdae laughed, “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Chanyeol,” the man said, the side of his mouth quirking for a moment, “You know me. I’m your pair.”

“I don’t have a pair,” Jongdae said, “And I don’t know you. We’ve never met.”

“Yes,” Chanyeol said, rubbing his eyes, “Yes we have. You’re my pair. Therefore we know each other already.”

Jongdae could only just stare at him.

“I’ve always been here,” Chanyeol dropped the hand from his face and smiled, “You’re my pair after all. We know everything about each other, and I know everything about you.”

“Right,” Jongdae said, escaping to the bathroom a few minutes early before he was supposed to take a shower. He locked the doors three times and made sure to check if it was locked properly three more times before he turned on the showers and sat on the tile floor of the bathroom listening to the water run. This was impossible. This was impossible. _Impossible_.

Jongdae stared at his reflection in the mirror, took in the reality of his wide eyes, the veins that stood out from his hands as he gripped the edge of the sink. He took a deep breath, watched his chest expand, held his breath for a moment, and exhaled. He practiced smiling again, but abandoned that to take a shower after he didn’t like what he saw staring back at him in the mirror.

After he was done showering, he slowly opened the door and sighed when there was no one there on the bed anymore. Perhaps it was just an odd side effect of the pills. Perhaps he had been dreaming again.

Feeling better, he walked out to the living room like nothing had happened, only to stop in his tracks as a stranger, the same stranger, was in the kitchen making breakfast by himself.

“I made you an omelet,” he said with a cheerful smile, pushing the plate towards Jongdae’s direction while Jongdae stood rooted in his spot, unsure of what was still going on. So this was real after all.

“I don’t know you,” Jongdae said.

“I’m your pair,” the man said as he turned off the stove and carried his own plate to the dining table, “You should come eat with me.”

“You’re not my pair,” Jongdae said, raising his voice a little more than what was acceptable, “That’s impossible.”

“But it’s not,” the man said, unfazed by the volume of Jongdae’s voice, “We’ve been pairs for a long time. Eat. Be happy with me.”

“I don’t like omelets,” Jongdae said, stubbornly striding to the refrigerator, turning his back on the man as he fetched out two eggs, “You would have known that if you were my pair.”

“Then you like your eggs cooked differently,” Chanyeol offered, “Boiled.”

“Wrong,” Jongdae said, heating up a pan and holding his hand over it to see how warm it was before drizzling some oil into it.

“Scrambled,” Chanyeol said, “I knew it was scrambled. I was only playing earlier. It’s scrambled.”

“Wrong,” Jongdae said, cracking his egg on the side of the counter with more force than was necessary, “You’re not my pair.”

“Tell me,” the man said, “I’ll cook you two eggs tomorrow like how you want.”

“I only eat one,” Jongdae said even though he cooked a second one soon after. He didn’t know why, but it just felt right.

Jongdae ate his breakfast in silence, keeping to himself while Chanyeol chattered at him and stated a long list of statements that Jongdae was expected to correct or not. He preferred staying quiet, leaving Chanyeol to talk by himself, undeterred about how he knew what Jongdae’s favorite color was even though he was wrong, what Jongdae’s favorite thing to do was even though Jongdae didn’t even himself know, and what made Jongdae happy.

“Pills,” Jongdae said, checking his watch before pulling out the canister of those familiar pills, “Pills make me happy just like everyone else.” He hated how that sounded.

Chanyeol kept rambling regardless of what Jongdae said, so Jongdae grabbed his hand and pushed a pill into it. He would’ve shoved it into Chanyeol’s mouth if he wanted, but he was not an enforcer. Just a distributor.

Chanyeol took his pill and went to work with a cheerful wave and a promise to be back as soon as he could. Jongdae didn’t even know where he went, but at least he was gone. With a sigh, he wearily climbed into his car, already feeling unusually tired even though he had just taken his pill and even though he could feel a smile blossoming and stretching his lips. Perhaps it was just Chanyeol. Chanyeol was the reason why he was tired. That was all.

Jongdae went through his daily routine, giving everyone their pills like normal without problem. After field distribution concluded, he went to his office, always the first to arrive, always the first to sit alone while everyone else walked in two by twos, some talking to their pairs on their phones. Jongdae apparently had a pair now, but he didn’t even want to call Chanyeol. He didn’t even have Chanyeol’s number, nor did he care.

Pairs couldn’t be forced. That much Jongdae knew about them. And if he suddenly had a pair that showed up out of nowhere, one that he didn’t choose, one that he was supposed to pretend had been with him since forever even though those minutes he spent enduring Chanyeol’s morning talks were already forever enough, Jongdae knew there was only one person who could do something like that to him.

“Yixing,” Jongdae said after he finished enough of his work that he could take a break and talk to him, “I have a pair.”

Yixing looked up from his work and smiled slowly, “That’s fantastic, Jongdae. I knew you would find one. I’m happy for you. I knew it was only a matter of time.”

“I didn’t choose him,” Jongdae shook his head, “I didn’t choose this man. I don’t even know who he is. He just showed up in my house today, and he swears we’ve been pairs forever, for life.”

“I’m sure you must’ve just forgot,” Yixing said, “It’s nothing a good night’s sleep will not fix. You’ve been working a lot lately. You’re our best distributor, and maybe the strain of work has finally gotten to you. Maybe you should take some vacation time.”

“I’m fine,” Jongdae said, “I’m happy. That’s what you and everyone want to hear. I just want to know why someone…someone in a high position of power thought it would be a good idea to give me a pair I don’t even know. One that I didn’t even pick.”

“Everyone has pairs, Jongdae,” Yixing said, “Pairs make each other happy.”

“This one didn’t,” Jongdae said, “And I’d rather have no pair than have one that I didn’t choose. Or one that didn’t choose me either.”

Yixing stared at Jongdae carefully.  Abruptly, the speaker of his desk phone crackled, shouting half its message before Yixing could stop it.

“We’ve got a visual on 338. Permission to—” the voice said before Yixing pressed a button to switch it to a private line. If he didn’t want Jongdae to hear it, then maybe he should have learned to keep his phone on silent.

“Permission granted,” Yixing said.

Jongdae stared.

“I can help you with 338,” Jongdae said, needing something that would keep him busy and not occupied with thoughts of his supposed pair.

“You will not help me with 338,” Yixing said after hanging up, “He’s highly dangerous and you need to get used to…you need to figure out why you can’t remember who your pair is.”

“There’s nothing to remember if it’s Chanyeol,” Jongdae said before hastily adding something after he remembered how Chanyeol had attempted to make Jongdae breakfast anyways, “But he’s not bad. He’s not the worst.”

“See,” Yixing said, “Maybe you can remember why you’re his pair.”

There was no way Jongdae could remember a time in his life where Chanyeol was his pair, platonic or not. But he couldn’t remember anything, couldn’t remember much of the past at all. He didn’t want to wonder why because happy people just minded their own business and did not question why some things happened. Things just were. There was no bad thing, no thing wrong.

Still, Jongdae could not bring himself to face a stranger in his own home after he finished work, so after he completed all the paperwork he was supposed to file, Jongdae drove to the town markets and town square just to look.

There were countless little shops and stalls of fresh fruit carefully organized and always perfect, never seen with a blemish on them. The vendors all stood behind their stalls smiling brightly, never saying anything until they were addressed.

Jongdae didn’t normally do this, at least he thought, but as he passed by a place selling pastries baked by some woman who wouldn’t stop looking at him, he decided to buy a pie.

“One slice of apple pie please,” Jongdae said as energetically said.

“Nice choice!” the woman smiled before she stared at Jongdae a moment more before opening up the display cabinet. The warmth of the oven behind her radiated pleasantly in Jongdae’s face, and he took a deep breath, relaxing as the pleasant smell of sweet pastries lingered in the air. Jongdae felt himself on the verge of smiling genuinely, of being something not perhaps as happy as he had to be in this society, but something in between, something more muted but still good.

The feeling quickly vanished after he heard what the woman said next.

“Your pair didn’t come with you. I met him last time,” the woman said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jongdae said. If Chanyeol really was his pair, Jongdae had only just met him. Or at least he thought he did.

“Okay!” the woman said as she took Jongdae’s change and handed him his slice of pie. At least in this society, no one would ask him any questions he didn’t want to answer or didn’t have the answers for.

Jongdae sat on the bench away from the vendors and savored the pie while watching the people who shopped and strolled around the area. They all walked the same at the same pace. They all smiled the same, smiling regardless of what they were talking about. Everyone was happy. This was how it should have been.

Even after Jongdae finished his pie, he sat around, not willing to go home just yet.

Everyone was still the same until he saw a man with his hands shoved in his pockets dart around the market. He didn’t always smile, but cheerfully brightened when anyone called him. Jongdae saw him slip a few apples in his shirt. It seemed no one else had seen what he had done, but Jongdae didn’t raise his voice to let everyone know even though it would have been the right thing to do.

And now he was going to pass by Jongdae.

Jongdae had a duty as a distributor to make sure everyone was happy, and therefore to make sure if everything was all right in society. Happy people made a good society, so if something was wrong in society, then something was wrong with the people. If he wasn’t going to draw attention to this issue, the least he could do was take care of the problem quietly.

“You’ve taken your pill today!” Jongdae called out to the man, hoping he would not be corrected. He remembered to smile.

The man blinked.

“Have _you_? You look like fucking shit,” the man said, stopping in his tracks before looking around.

“I don’t…know what you mean,” Jongdae said, quickly rushing to assure the man that he was all right, “I’m happy. I’m fine. It’s a beautiful day.”

“God,” the man let out a laugh, “I’m so fucking relieved I stopped taking them.”

“You stopped,” Jongdae said, almost failing to keep the undeniable question from his voice, “You can stop.”

“Oh, I forgot how fucked up this society was,” the man let out a laugh, breaking into a sprint and disappearing into the crowd before Jongdae could say anything else. Jongdae wondered if he imagined the whole thing. Happy people minded their own business, but after Jongdae came home hours after he was used to coming home and laid as far from Chanyeol on his bed as possible, he kept thinking.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

When the clock struck 7:00 the next day, Jongdae hopped straight out of bed as soon as he shut off the alarm. He didn’t want to spend a moment longer next to this…this stranger than he had to. So for the next ten minutes, Jongdae sat on the floor near the bed and attempted to wake up before heading into the shower.

It had been routine for him now to slowly open the door after he was done showering as if the sight of Chanyeol there would just shock him again. But this time, like all the other times, Jongdae’s bed was empty, only ruffled sheets showing any indication that someone else was there. For a second Jongdae pretended it was someone he actually loved, but he didn’t have much to pretend with, didn’t have specific face to imagine, so he gave up and went downstairs.

“Good morning!” Chanyeol said as soon as he heard Jongdae approach, “I made you breakfast. You like your eggs like this.”

He pushed a bowl of rice and a fried egg towards Jongdae and beckoned for him to come and sit with him.

“Thank you,” Jongdae said as Chanyeol took a bite of his omelet.

“I should’ve known you liked your eggs like that,” Chanyeol said between bites, keeping his head down as he spoke before he smiled, “I know now. I’m your pair after all.”

“Right,” Jongdae said, looking down at his egg. Chanyeol talked to him more like usual, and he answered a little better today, looking up at him when he spoke instead of staring at his breakfast. But even after Jongdae sat through Chanyeol’s talking, he felt restless, as if something was wrong. He usually made himself breakfast. Maybe that was it. He couldn’t just quit something in his routine so easily.

“I can make you another one if you’re still hungry,” Chanyeol said as Jongdae heated up a pan.

“Thank you, but it’s fine,” Jongdae said, hesitating before continuing to speak, “I can make you one, too.”

He looked behind him when he received no answer. Chanyeol froze mid-bite, his chopsticks hovering near his mouth as he looked at Jongdae with wide eyes.

“Thank you, but that’s all right,” Chanyeol said after recovering and sending him a smile, “I’m pretty full. You can just give me my pill for the day, and I’ll be off.”

“Oh, yes,” Jongdae said, reaching into his pocket to take out Chanyeol’s pill. Chanyeol walked over to him, and only now did Jongdae fully realize how tall Chanyeol was as he loomed over him. He shook out a pill onto Chanyeol’s hand and watched as he swallowed it with some water.

“It’s a beautiful day! I’ll see you later after work!” Chanyeol grinned, stretching out his arm, moving it over Jongdae’s shoulder. But when Jongdae stood frozen, he quickly moved his hand and placed it on Jongdae’s head.

“Eat lots,” Chanyeol said, tousling Jongdae’s hair, “Be happy.”

“I am,” Jongdae said as Chanyeol waved before leaving his house.

“I _am_ ,” Jongdae said again after he was alone.

He turned his attention to the egg and turned off the heat after it was done. Humming under his breath a little louder since he was alone, he swiftly transferred it to a plate and scooped out another bowl of rice.

He sat down and stared at the food in front of him. Now he didn’t feel hungry anymore, so he just pushed it to a seat adjacent of him and sat in silence before his alarm reminded him it was time to go! To take his pill! To work!

Work was the same.

His clients were always the same, just as happy and eager to be happy, just like he remembered.

“Good morning, Jongdae,” Mrs. Kim beamed as she opened the door with one hand and held a glass of water with her other.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kim. Here’s today’s pill,” Jongdae said as he distributed exactly one white pill to Mrs. Kim’s outstretched hand. He watched her take it, but didn’t focus much as she opened her mouth. He knew she would have truly taken it. There was no point in making sure. Mrs. Kim was consistently happy, so he didn’t have much to be concerned with.

“Your daughter can’t still be asleep at this hour,” Jongdae said, peeking into the house.

“She’s here,” Mrs. Kim said, turning around and pushing a little girl to the front of the door, her fingers tightly grasping her daughter’s shoulder.

“Here’s your pill,” Jongdae said, bending down to drop a pill into her little hand.

“You look tired,” she said, “You must have not taken your pill yet.”

Jongdae laughed, a little forced, a little not. Oh he was really in trouble if a child could tell something was not all right.

“Don’t be silly,” her mother harshly whispered, slightly shaking her daughter’s shoulder while her eyes widened, “You know who he is, what he does, what he can do. He’s a distributor. He’s supposed to be happy always.”

Jongdae continued laughing, shaking his head as he straightened up. Mrs. Kim was still whispering something to her daughter, but he was already on his way out. As long as upper management suspected nothing and said nothing, he was still fine.

Jongdae continued his distribution until it was Kyungsoo’s turn. But before he could even take a step on Kyungsoo’s driveway, Kyungsoo flung open the door and took a step outside of his house, watching as Jongdae walked up his porch stairs.

“Please give me my pill, Jongdae,” Kyungsoo grinned as Jongdae finally reached him. The majority of anyone listening would think that Kyungsoo was speaking a little too loudly, but Jongdae was not in the majority anymore so he didn’t care.

“Of course, of course,” Jongdae tried to smile, shaking a pill out before Kyungsoo all but snatched it from his hand. Jongdae watched him as he swallowed the pill, wondering how he just so easily took it without water. His attention then flickered to Kyungsoo’s expression. There was something trapped in the way Kyungsoo’s eyes looked, the way his stretched lips did not meet his eyes.

Jongdae quickly bid him a good day before he hastily retreated, his heart beating so fast as soon as he realized that Kyungsoo’s expression might as well have been what was staring back at him from the mirror all that time ago.

On his way to his car, someone brushed past his shoulder causing Jongdae to stumble and look up.

“Sorry!” a voice said, causing Jongdae to turn around to see a figure sprint past him. He watched for a moment, noticing how the man pushed past other people walking along the street before he disappeared in the distance.

Jongdae reached his car and allowed himself a minute to breathe, his head still turned in the direction. He was not supposed to ask questions, to even wonder about things that people should not mind, but—

“Hello!” someone cheerfully said, causing Jongdae to turn around to face a person dressed in all black accompanied by others that wore the same dark uniform. He looked for a moment at the big guns they carried before smiling.

“Hello,” Jongdae said, “I’m almost finished with distribution. Don’t worry. No one jumped out at me as an immediate threat to happiness.”

“Oh, we’re not worried about that,” the person said again, adjusting the grip on the gun, “You’ve seen someone run through here. You know which direction they escaped.”

Jongdae looked at the person straight in the eyes, thought of the man who had fled straight past him, and grinned.

“Yes!” Jongdae said, pointing to his right across the street, “They went that way! Have a good one!”

The man thanked him before raising fingers in the air and making odd gestures. The rest of the people followed him, and Jongdae drove to work without looking back.

At work, he tried to focus on his paperwork, but more often than not found himself staring at the blank words as his mind wandered to the man, if he had been caught or not, if he had been lost or not.

And while Jongdae shouldn’t have, he found himself walking to Yixing’s office anyways, prepared to say what he guessed anyways.

“You’ve found 338,” Jongdae said without any greeting.

“Jongdae,” Yixing smiled, looking up and already folding his hands together, “You must be all done with your work if you’re here again.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, “You know me. I wouldn’t go home without all my work done.”

“Yes, you have a stellar work ethic and record. Distribution would not be the same without you,” Yixing said in the same tone of voice he’d use to tell everyone what he had yesterday night for dinner.

“Thank you, Yixing,” Jongdae said, “But 338…You’ve found him.”

“Your curiosity towards 338 is intriguing, Jongdae,” Yixing said, “But you shouldn’t concern yourself with him. He’s an example of what every person in this society should not be. We’re happy. He’s not.”

“So we’re here,” Jongdae realized, “But he’s not.”

Yixing’s silence and the way his lips pressed together for a quick moment gave Jongdae the only answer he needed.

“It shouldn’t be possible to exist without pills,” Jongdae spoke quickly, feeling his mood brightening for some reason.

“That’s why we’re catching him,” Yixing said, “To get him the help he needs.”

“He’s been surviving just fine,” Jongdae observed.

“Surviving isn’t living like how we are supposed to in this society,” Yixing said before the phone rang.

“One moment,” Yixing said, picking up the phone and swiveling around in his chair to answer. Jongdae stared at the back of Yixing’s chair and wondered if he shouldn’t have overstepped and talked so openly of a person who was not all right. Perhaps Yixing would think he was like 338 if he was so curious.

“Yes, I’ll send you your files immediately,” Yixing said before standing up and putting the phone back.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, taking a file off of his desk, “I would stay and chat more about…this, but I’ve got to deliver this file to the medical center. It’s too bad really… there’s so much work to be done.”

“I can do it for you,” Jongdae said, reaching out with a smile. Usefulness and an eagerness to work and help were indicative of happy people. And Jongdae was. Happy. So he should help Yixing if he really needed help.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yixing said, staring at Jongdae with an expression he didn’t recognize.

“It’s only the medical center,” Jongdae said, “I haven’t been there in ages, but I’m sure I’ll find the way.”

“Oh,” Yixing said, his expression beginning to melt off his face, “That’s right. Of course.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jongdae insisted, pulling the file out of Yixing’s grasp, “I’ll drop these for you and be on my way.”

Yixing flashed a smile, but it fell from his face as quickly as it appeared. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“Alright,” he said after a while, “Don’t stay to look. Just drop them off at the receptionist and go out. I’m sure it will be fine.”

Jongdae nodded and left, leaving Yixing who quickly answered another incoming phone call. He had been to the medical bay a couple of times for occasional check-ups when he was younger during distribution recruitment and training, but he hadn’t been there in a long time.

He almost had to remember how to get there, forgetting how deep below the building it was and how odd that the only way to reach the center was with a glass elevator. What if the glass shattered beneath his feet? He also didn’t know why some nurses looked at him as if his skin was glowing or on fire when the elevator doors opened and he stepped out to where he was supposed to go. Could they tell if he wasn’t as happy as he should have been? Was this how they were trained?

“Back so soon!” one said, exchanging a look with a nurse beside her. That didn’t seem true.

“I’m happy!” Jongdae said, not really knowing what else to say. That was also not true.

“You’re here for something official,” she said.

“I’m dropping off these papers and records,” Jongdae said before remembering what Yixing said, “They’re for the receptionist.”

“Keep walking straight. You’ll know it when you see it,” the nurse said before turning around and giggling as she walked off with the other nurse.

Jongdae walked straight, passing under the bright lights that were staggered on the ceiling. Many of the nurses that walked past him would look at him, but look away when he stared back. He didn’t know why, what he had done. He made sure to smile and to look happy, so he couldn’t understand.

Eventually, he reached an area with a curved desk adjacent to a nearby elevator.

“Kim Jongdae,” the receptionist said, standing up from the desk to greet him, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh,” Jongdae said, stopping to stand in place, wondering how the man knew his name. Well maybe there was nothing wrong with him if everyone thought he didn’t need to be here. “Yixing only sent me to give you this file. I’ll just walk straight out when I’m done.”

The receptionist looked at him for a moment before sitting back down at his desk.

“Let me confirm that you have clearance to be here,” he said, beginning to type on his computer screen.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, leaning slightly over the counter to look at what the receptionist was doing. But there was nothing but a blank, glowing screen. All right.

As Jongdae waited, he watched as a long line of patients was transported in a metal elevator beside him. Two nurses stood on both sides of a patient with their arms grasping the patient’s shoulders tightly. Perhaps there was a more efficient way of transporting them all at once, but what did Jongdae know…he was only a distributor.

He turned back to the receptionist who continued to stare at the blank screen, typing something Jongdae couldn’t understand.

The elevator routinely dinged, and from the corner of Jongdae’s eye he saw the line of patients steadily move forwards.

“Hey,” Jongdae said after checking his watch, “You have my clearance, ri—”

Suddenly a loud yell that was quickly suppressed startled Jongdae, but he did not look. He should mind his own business.

Suddenly scuffling and muffled sounds echoed through the hallway, and while Jongdae was curious, he kept looking at the receptionist. This was not the place to act out. The receptionist looked up, raised his eyebrows at what was behind Jongdae, and looked at him.

“Oh dear,” he said, pressing his lips together before flashing Jongdae a small smile, “Don’t look. You have clearance. Do what was asked and get out.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae said before sliding the file over to the receptionist. The elevator dinged, signaling that the metal doors were opening once again. Perhaps whoever was making the commotion would head inside now.

“Go,” the receptionist said, still smiling, though there was a certain way he looked at Jongdae that was not appreciated. What was happening behind him?

The odd noises grew louder and louder until Jongdae was so sure that whatever or whoever it was appeared right behind him, heading into the elevator. It was okay. He could last a few more seconds until whatever it was left.

But suddenly out of nowhere, a loud scream, freed at last, heard at last, caused Jongdae to feel as if his heart had dropped out of his chest.

It was a scream that sounded like how Jongdae himself looked when he stood in front of the mirror some days ago, confronted with nothing but himself and a terrible ache in his chest he couldn’t understand.

Jongdae immediately turned, looking back a moment too late and managing only to catch a tiny glimpse of black hair before the elevators doors shut.

He didn’t know why his vision had suddenly become blurry.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“You don’t look good,” Chanyeol said as soon as Jongdae came home.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Jongdae said, still shaken from what he had heard and seen at the medical facility even if he understood nothing.

“I can’t say it out loud,” Chanyeol said as he shook his head and looked at Jongdae, “But fix it before I have to tell the enforcers.”

“If you’re really my pair,” Jongdae said as he quickly took off his shoes and threw down his briefcase before straightening to stare at Chanyeol, “then you wouldn’t care if I was like this or not. You wouldn’t tell the enforcers on me like this.”

“But you’re not…” Chanyeol said, looking around before lowering his voice, “happy. This is not how we’re meant to look.”

“Then call them,” Jongdae firmly said, pushing Chanyeol aside to walk into his own house, “And I’ll tell them I have a pair who doesn’t make me happy.”

“I don’t,” Chanyeol said a little softer. Jongdae almost regretted it, but changed his mind because what was there to regret if that was the truth? “Correct me, Jongdae. That can’t be right.”

Jongdae refused to say more and shook his head, escaping upstairs to the bathroom and slamming the door. He checked to make sure the door was locked three times before he sat on the floor, back straight, arms crossed. A few times, Chanyeol knocked softly on the door and asked if Jongdae would come out, if Jongdae would come eat the dinner he made, if Jongdae would come to bed with him.  Jongdae never responded and was ready to spend all night in the bathroom if he had to.

Eventually, after Jongdae was sure Chanyeol had gone to bed anyways, he began to grow restless. He didn’t want to give in and go out, so he resolutely cleaned the bathroom until there was nothing left to clean but the floor. For a moment, he sat in the bathtub and stared at the wall to take a short break, refusing to stare at the mirror again. After a while, he began to clean the tiled floor, but as soon as he scrubbed one tile, he found it loose.

Jongdae lifted up the tile and found white powder and half crushed white rocks underneath.

Jongdae had been a distributor for more years than he could remember, and after handling those pills every day for so long, there was no way he couldn’t know what this was, even if they had been crushed. But what were they doing here underneath this title? Whose were these pills? Jongdae was so sure they weren’t his since he had been taking his pills every day just like he was supposed to, and he had made sure Chanyeol took his, too. So who?

Who?

Jongdae was sure that if he tried to remember anything at all, then he’d be able to think of something. But the longer he sat with the exposed tile and the pile of white dust by himself trying to think, to just remember, the longer he was so sure that whatever it was either did not exist or was something Jongdae was not allowed to know. He wished the second option were the correct one.

And at 7:00 the next morning, Jongdae woke up to the sound of his shrill alarm, cold and stretched out painfully onto the floor.

He stared at the open, loose tile and what lay underneath right in front of his eyes, and blinked sleepily. So that wasn’t a dream then.

Jongdae stood up, feeling aches in his body, probably from his uncomfortable sleeping position. He rubbed his shoulder and twisted his arm around before 7:10 hit and it was time to take a shower. So Jongdae quickly put the tile back where it came from and sneaked out his door. Chanyeol was still asleep in his bed, so Jongdae took the things he needed and left.

At 7:30 he walked downstairs to see Chanyeol already done with breakfast on the table.

Jongdae stared as Chanyeol greeted him with a solitary grin and pushed his food towards him.

“Eat,” he said, “Be happy!”

Jongdae was about to say no, but remembered he had skipped dinner yesterday, so despite himself, he sat in front of Chanyeol and reluctantly ate.

“Your arm is stretched out on the table,” Chanyeol said, poking Jongdae’s arm with his chopstick, “You want to hold hands.”

“No,” Jongdae said, quickly withdrawing his hand from the table and turning back to look down at his food. He didn’t know why he did that.

Chanyeol began to talk about anything, never mentioning yesterday, so maybe, for a second, Jongdae hoped that Chanyeol forgot. Chanyeol had to forget. If he didn’t think Jongdae was happy, then one look from the other distributors and Jongdae would be done.

But then Chanyeol had to say _those things_ , so Jongdae had to sigh and reach inside his pocket for _that pill_.

“You know,” Chanyeol had started to say, “You were not yourself yesterday. You were not happy. I don’t know why, and it doesn’t matter why. What matters is I’m going to get you the help you need so you don’t have to feel not happy ever again.”

“Then I’m lucky,” Jongdae lied as he grabbed Chanyeol’s hand and shook his pill in there for him, “to have someone like you as my pair.”

“Oh!” Chanyeol grinned, “See I knew you were lying yesterday about what you said. I’m a good pair. I make you happy. Something at work must’ve caused you to be not, but that’s all right. You can be fixed. Everyone can be fixed after all since everyone must be happy.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled as he watched Chanyeol take his pill. He watched Chanyeol to continue to talk about such nonsense before he saw before his own eyes the effects of the pill take place.

“Go to the medical center…and sort yourself…out,” Chanyeol said before the edges of his lips began to slowly stretch upwards and his eyes widened.

“You were saying,” Jongdae said, for once admiring the effects the pill had.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Chanyeol let out a laugh, “I was talking about what we should do this weekend probably.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, smiling, “Now go to work. Talk more later.”

“Have a good one!” Chanyeol said, and before Jongdae could stop him, raised his hand to quickly tousle his hair.

Jongdae shook a pill into his hand as he shook his head, waiting for Chanyeol to leave the house until he finally took his pill for the day. Before heading to work, he sat in his car, taking a moment to fix his hair. He had to look presentable and in place just like everyone else after all.

Work was fine, just like normal. It always was. After distribution, Jongdae was stuck filling out paperwork again, but today he always found himself staring out the window more often than he should have. Instead of any enforcers that were outside his window, Jongdae stared at the forests in the distance instead. More often than not, today he thought of what it would be like to live in the trees. Perhaps anything was better than here.

Jongdae didn’t want to come home to Chanyeol again, so at 5:30, instead of heading home, he drove to the open marketplace in town square where all the vendors sold their food and fruit. Like before, he walked for a while, taking his time to look at all the neatly lined rows of apples and other produce. Like before, when the clock struck 6:30, he didn’t go home again. And like before, he found himself buying a slice of apple pie from the vendor who knew better than to talk about his pair this time.

Just like before, Jongdae sat on a bench outside eating his apple pie, savoring the sweet taste as he glanced at the crowd. Sure enough, a familiar man walked through the crowds at a brisk pace. Jongdae watched as he pocketed an apple without anyone else noticing.

Jongdae watched as again and again and again, the man would weave through the crowd, greeting the vendors while his hands moved where they would not see, moving quicker than anyone could catch him. He took a break at last, and Jongdae noted with interest the way the smile dropped off his face for a quick second and how his eyes dulled and quickly glanced at everyone before he spotted another person and brightened immediately.

Jongdae kept his eyes on the man as he threw away his trash and sat back down on the bench. He had about ten seconds to act, to do something because the man was walking straight past him, picking up his pace as he glanced behind him.

Stay silent. Or speak.

Be happy. Or act.

Question nothing. Or everything.

Jongdae didn’t know if he ever consciously made the decision because all of a sudden, something deep within himself caused him to shout before he even realized what he was doing.

“Hello,” Jongdae called out as the man passed him without any indication that he saw or heard him. He breathed, realizing what he was doing at last, and glanced around the crowd to see if anyone had noticed. Everyone minded their business like they should have, so Jongdae got to his feet and acted.

“Hello,” Jongdae said a little louder as he hurried after the man.

“ _Hello_ ,” Jongdae said, tapping the man’s shoulder. The man stopped, sighed, and finally turned around slowly.

“Hello!” he said, his face cheering instantly and his lips curling into an instantaneous smile. The corners of his eyes crinkled up, and for a second, Jongdae really would have thought this was just any other normal person. But he’d heard things, seen things, so there was no way this could not be.

“You’ve taken your pill,” Jongdae tried, wondering if the man would correct him.

Immediately, the man sighed and crossed his arms. The beat of Jongdae’s heart picked up a bit, and he dared to believe.

“I don’t have time to chat,” the man said, glancing around him. His voice was still enthusiastic and his smile still always present, but his words caused Jongdae’s heart to race. “I’ve taken my pill, so stop it and leave me alone with your distributor antics.”

Jongdae exhaled deeply, squeezing his hands into fists in case he would be tempted to wave them around and start moving like no one was supposed to. To control himself, he looked at the people around them. Some were sitting down eating the food that they bought around the marketplace. Others were standing around ready to sell their produce or food to customers. But all of them were smiling that same smile, laughing that same cheerful laugh. And all were happy.

Except this man.

“You’re not happy,” Jongdae said, but he didn’t mean it as an accusation.

“You’re not right,” the man said, mimicking Jongdae’s tone.

And suddenly Jongdae let out a genuine laugh, throwing back his head to laugh so loudly people around him looked. But this was all right. Laughter was normal, laughter was a sign of happiness, so Jongdae wasn’t doing anything outwardly wrong.

Until now at least.

“You’re 338,” Jongdae grinned.

338.

“You’re 338,” Jongdae repeated again, unable to help himself as he let out another chuckle. But this time his voice was a little softer, a little less sure of himself. “Right?”

The man looked at Jongdae for a moment more, his shoulders slightly relaxing before he scoffed and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Three three eight? So that’s what they’ve been calling me. I guess it was too much to use my real name wasn’t it,” the man shook his head.

“You’re him,” Jongdae said, blinking as he stared at the man who evaded the enforcers for so long, who lived without pills for so long, who survived unhappy for so long.

“You must be one of them if you insist on calling me that,” 338 said, turning his head to glance at people who walked a few feet away from them. They said nothing and didn’t spare them a glance, so he looked back at Jongdae and quickly continued talking, “Maybe you’re someone high ranking, too, since no one’s supposed to know, or at least not many are supposed to know about me. No one wants to know that something’s wrong with their society, that someone’s different. Noncompliant.”

“I’m only a distributor,” Jongdae said, but he immediately raised his hand out as 338 turned as if ready to run off, “But wait! Wait! I’m not…with them. They’re looking for you to make you take your pills, but I just wanted to talk.”

“So you can distract me and bring me back?” 338 said, looking around, searching for any enforcers that might be hiding and waiting for the moment to strike.

“No, not at all!” Jongdae said, raising his other hand and keeping both in the air to show he meant no harm, “I…Please trust me. Believe me. I really just wanted to talk because—”

“I only trust myself,” 338 said, fidgeting with his hands, “It’s why I’m still here, still alive. It’s why so far no one’s been able to catch me.”

“Until now,” Jongdae pressed onwards, never taking his eyes off of the man. He was so _close_. He could feel it. “But I’m not here to make you take your pills or bring you back. I just want to talk.”

“No,” 338 shook his head, “I’m not safe here. I need to get back. You’re lying to me.”

Recalling the way Chanyeol, his supposed pair, so easily threatened to tell the enforcers on him, Jongdae was not surprised by the man’s sentiments at all. But he could not let him go now, not when he needed answers only someone with questions could answer.

“ _Please_ ,” Jongdae said again, a little louder, “I just want to know how you can survive without your pills. Even with the pills, I’ve been feeling like…like the sky’s gray instead of blue even though it’s always supposed to be blue…like the smiles I put on my face seem more rehearsed than natural. Like something’s missing even though I don’t know what.”

338 froze and quickly looked at Jongdae’s countenance.

“Say that again,” 338 said. His shoulders relaxed, but his eyes still occasionally darted around looking at the other people.

“Please?” Jongdae slowly repeated.

“No, no. The last part. Say that again,” 338 said.

“I feel like something’s missing even though I don’t know what,” Jongdae said again.

338 took a deep breath and looked at Jongdae once more, looking for any signs that Jongdae was lying.

“Oh. Okay,” 338 softly said, “Maybe you’ve had your memory wiped recently. They do that to people who do things they don’t like.”

“What?” Jongdae said, two fingers of his right hand reaching to reflexively wrap around the skin of his left fourth finger.

“It’s possible,” 338 said, eyeing how Jongdae’s hands moved, “Were you doing something that people from upper management didn’t like?”

“How would I know?” Jongdae said, lowering his voice as a cheerful lady walked past him, “If you said I got my memory wiped, then how would I know?”

“Right,” 338 said, a hint of laughter creeping into his voice, “So if you got your memory wiped, then that would mean you were doing something upper management didn’t like. And if you were doing something upper management didn’t like, then there must have been some other consequence other than getting your memory taken. I really wonder what you found that made them do this to you. Maybe you’ve seen what I’ve seen.”

“How do I know how I was punished? My life’s been the same…except for that feeling like I can’t remember things,” Jongdae said, clasping his hands together to fill some sort of void that suddenly opened up again. Recalling this out loud hurt.

“You’re sure about that,” 338 said, tilting his head slightly.

“Yes,” Jongdae said.

“Hello! It’s a beautiful day!” a voice said, causing 338 to snap to attention and slid a bright grin onto his face, leaving Jongdae speechless. He had seen the transition so many times, but to see how 338 acted and blended in so well right in front of his face was incredible.

“It’s a beautiful day! Have a good one!” 338 said as the civilian passed by without suspecting anything was wrong. As soon as the person passed from earshot and out of sight, 338 dropped the smile quickly and let his shoulder sag.

“This place is so fucking ridiculous,” 338 shook his head, “I can’t believe I used to be like them.”

“How do you do that…act like you’re still taking pills?” Jongdae asked.

“It’s easy,” 338 shrugged. “You have to realize that you don’t actually feel that way, and that everything’s fake. Then you just stretch the corners of your lips even if you don’t feel it or even if you do. How can anybody know what you’re feeling truly? If you just smile, no one will notice what’s happening to you inside.”

He then poked the corners of his lips up.

“And then,” he said, changing the tone of his voice to a sickeningly sweet one, “you have to speak like everyone else. Talk about the beautiful day! The fucking beautiful day! And don’t ask questions!”

“We shouldn’t ask questions anyways,” Jongdae said, noting again in interest how the man changed so effortlessly.

“But you have,” 338 let out a chuckle. Jongdae dared to believe it was a real one. “Maybe that’s why I didn’t run off yet.”

“ _Oh_ ,” Jongdae said, slapping a hand over his mouth, looking around him just in case anyone heard, “I should’ve been more careful.”

“How are you still out here?” 338 asked, “If you’re a distributor, then how are you like this?”

“Instead of w—” Jongdae began to say before catching himself. He blamed the man’s influence.

“Anyways…work on that. Because the next step in fooling society is the part that not many can master. Well. I wouldn’t know since I’m the only one, but still,” 338 said, “You’ve got to change how your eyes look. Don’t forget to be expressive with your eyebrows, you know? Don’t stare blankly. Smile even if you don’t want to. Look happy even if you’re not. This is how you survive and live like they intended.”

“Can you…help me?” Jongdae said, causing the man to look taken aback.

“Listen, it was nice to talk to another person without having to smile for once, but why would I want to help someone who works for the people trying to bring me in?” 338 said.

“Because if I wanted to bring you in, I would’ve already,” Jongdae said, “I could have called the enforcers any time now, but—”

“You’re lying,” 338 shook his head, “They’re probably here right now, yeah? Or they’re on the way.”

He looked around quickly again, eyes quickly looking over the neatly trimmed bushes and the streets in the distance where anyone could be hiding.

“I’m _not_ ,” Jongdae shouted loudly.

338 seemed stunned at the abrupt change in Jongdae’s volume, but instead of calling the enforcers or reprimanding him for being so loud, he matched the volume of his voice.

“Alright, _alright_ ,” 338 said before speaking a bit softer, “Just…quiet down. Why would you need my help if you can’t even remember? It’s not like I can reach into your brain and pull out all the things you forgot. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Remembering’s easier when you’re not alone,” Jongdae said. Somehow those words felt right.

338 hesitated for a moment and constantly shifted his weight between his feet. It was probably easier to run, to live thinking only of one’s self. But if 338 had been living alone for so long, then Jongdae hoped he felt the same way he had felt before Chanyeol was sent to live in his house.

“If you want my help, don’t look for me again,” 338 finally said, causing Jongdae to smile, “It’s too dangerous. I’ll find you. Next week, right after night falls. If there’s anyone with you, you’ll never hear from me again, and no one will hear from you again either.”

Without giving time for Jongdae to respond, 338 quickly escaped into the distance. And suddenly night finally fell for the day, the blue sky immediately replaced with inky darkness just like that. Jongdae stood in the darkness, wading through the abyss before the streetlights finally flickered on and lit the way, illuminating the last glimpse of the man before he disappeared.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae still could not sleep well.

He wasn’t used to Chanyeol’s presence, and gingerly, when his alarm woke him up at 7:00, he awoke to Chanyeol’s arm around him. It didn’t mean anything, and was probably just a mistake of slumber, but Jongdae shoved it off of him as quickly as he could anyways. Luckily, Chanyeol didn’t wake up and rolled back into the sheets as Jongdae sat up and watched him.

Chanyeol wasn’t the worst.

But he still didn’t feel right.

If he was truly Jongdae’s pair, then why did Jongdae not feel any happier or better when they were together? And if he was truly Jongdae’s pair, then why did Jongdae feel more relieved when they were apart?

In the very early mornings before Jongdae had to rise at 7:10 to shower, he still sat up, wondering how things could have been with a real pair. Briefly he thought of how nice it would be if he could wake up his pair by throwing himself on top of them, if he could kiss the remnants of sleep from their face until he could kiss smiling lips instead, if they could lay together until Jongdae had to go. If they could just _be_ together.

He didn’t imagine any of that with Chanyeol.

He didn’t feel any of that either when he sat down with Chanyeol at breakfast. Chanyeol asked him questions, answered questions Jongdae didn’t ask, and for the most part, Jongdae was just glad to hand Chanyeol’s pill and leave for work. At least Chanyeol did seem happier after he took the pill.

After Chanyeol left, Jongdae himself took his pill and drove to work. He felt the corners of his lips reflexively curl up and a surge of energy that would help him through all the tasks for today. As the day passed, all he could do was think about how to be a good, happy worker.

“It’s a beautiful day!” one of his co-workers greeted him as she sat at her desk after her distribution was over, “You must’ve done something wonderful yesterday.”

“I…” Jongdae said before furrowing his eyebrows, “I think so.”

“Naturally!” his co-worker nodded before turning back to her work.

But Jongdae sat frozen, countenance twisted. He held the pen firmly in his hand as he tried to remember…Oh….what did he do yesterday? He woke up. He went to work. And then…

He supposed the logical answer was that he went home at 5:30 after work like usual and went to bed at the same time. This was how it always was. For some reason, Jongdae felt as if that couldn’t be. But he dropped the subject and tried to continue working until the phone at his desk began to ring.

“Jongdae!” Yixing said in greeting, “Come to my office when you have time.”

“I’m free now,” Jongdae said before turning away from his co-workers and looking away, “Something is not right.”

“No, no,” Yixing hurried to correct Jongdae, “Nothing is wrong. I would just like to have a talk with you.”

“Okay,” Jongdae said.

When he reached Yixing’s office, this time, Yixing was already waiting for him, chair pulled out, arms crossed across the desk.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, uncrossing his hands to gesture at the chair in front of him.

“Yixing,” Jongdae said, wondering what he could’ve done wrong. Yesterday, he woke up at 7:00, went to work at 8:00, and at 5:30, he—

Jongdae struggled to remember, but Yixing caught his attention again as he spoke.

“Your pair. Chanyeol. He’s making you happy,” Yixing smiled, and Jongdae almost dryly laughed but stopped himself in time.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “Obviously, since I chose him, he should make me happy. Obviously, since I can remember a whole life with him, he should make me happy. Obviously, since he’s Chanyeol and not anyone else, he should make me happy.”

After he spoke, Jongdae fell silent and kept a smile on his face as he observed Yixing’s reaction. Yixing mirrored Jongdae’s expression, but his lips twitched for a second before pulling up into a smile. It was a second long enough to make Jongdae realize. A second long enough to make Jongdae know for sure he did not choose Chanyeol, but was given him instead.

Jongdae opened his mouth to say something, but the words died in his throat, choked by what he saw outside. A van quickly pulled up next to the building and parked while people dressed in black hopped out of the van and dragged a person out.

 _Oh_.

338.

Jongdae gripped his fists together and wondered why he had forgotten so easily.

“I…” Jongdae said, standing up quickly, “I have to go.”

“Work doesn’t let out for another ten minutes,” Yixing said, “You can’t.”

“I have to finish up some work before I go,” Jongdae said, rushing out of Yixing’s office before he could say anything.

Jongdae went back to his desk to grab his briefcase and waited in his car until he was allowed to go home at 5:30. But instead of heading home, he drove around the city, slowing down so he could look at the civilians and find anyone who looked out of the ordinary.

338 was real, was real, was _real_.

Jongdae could not forget him again. He really couldn’t.

He parked his car when he reached the marketplace and rushed out. Some people stared at him, but none dared to ask what was wrong, why did he look so not happy, why was he not acting like one of them. This time, he didn’t take his time to walk around and look at the neatly arranged fruit. This time, he didn’t slow down to buy some pie to eat on the bench. Because this time, Jongdae looked for anyone who looked like him. Out of place. Full of questions. Not Happy.

And finally, Jongdae breathed again as he saw a familiar figure weaving in and out of the crowd pocketing food and pretending to smile. At least he was real. Jongdae observed him for a moment longer before sneaking up on him and reaching out to tap his shoulder.

The man was prepared to smile and greet him, but it dissolved from his face as soon as he saw who Jongdae was.

“Wow…I don’t know if I should applaud you for finding me when all those enforcers have failed to do for so long, or just run,” 338 said, checking around before lowering his voice, “How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t hard,” Jongdae said, matching 338’s volume, “I knew what I was looking for.”

“I told you I’d find you next week,” 338 leaned in with a smile just in case someone else was looking.

“How would you have found me?” Jongdae threw back, “Maybe I should find you again.”

“Look at you,” 338 shook his head, “Why are you even here?”

“Because I almost _forgot_ you,” Jongdae harshly whispered, “I really forgot what happened yesterday until I saw a black van pull up next to my building filled with enforcers.”

“That’s…an odd thing to associate me with, but I’m flattered you remembered me again,” 338 said, straightening up to give Jongdae a look.

“But why did I forget?” Jongdae asked, grabbing the man’s arm again, “I shouldn’t have forgotten…I only saw you yesterday.”

“It’s the pills,” 338 said, “the pills make you forget everything that doesn’t make you happy.”

And suddenly it made sense.

“I’ve been giving people these things every day,” Jongdae said, shoving his hand in his pocket to pull out his canister. The pills rolled around in the orange container seemingly harmlessly. Now Jongdae knew better.

“You probably want me to say it’s not your fault, but really,” 338 said, “you’re just part of the system. It’s your fault, but you didn’t know better. No one knows better until some accident or something out of the ordinary happens.”

“How did you stop taking pills? Know how to stop? Know when everything was not all right?” Jongdae said.

“If you’re not lying to me about all this,” the man said, spreading out his hand, “Everything. Then that’s a story for later.”

“So what…what do I do now?” Jongdae asked, pushing the pills back in his pocket.

“Stop taking the pills,” 338 said, “And wait for me.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae made sure Chanyeol left first before he prepared himself for what he was about to do.

The pill canister was already out, standing on the table, one pill less after Jongdae distributed one to Chanyeol. It was so funny, how doing nothing, choosing to do nothing felt so _hard_. He had a routine. Wake up. Take his pill. Go to work. Be happy. And yet, and now, all he was supposed to do was skip from _wake up_ to _go to work_.

Jongdae could feel his hands aching to reach out to grab the canister, to twist open the cap, to pop the pill in his mouth. But he shoved the canister in his pocket to avoid tempting himself, and before he could change his mind, he got into his car and drove to work. He gritted his teeth and clenched the steering wheel as he drove.

Honestly, he didn’t notice _that_ big of a difference. At first.

Jongdae noticed that he had to manually smile now. He had to try to force himself to smile, which, nowadays, wasn’t that much of a difference, but at least the pill had always easily lifted his lips up no matter what.

Work was the same, though too often Jongdae found himself staring out the window every now and then, worried that one day those black cars with the enforcers would pull up and drag 338 inside.

338…

He didn’t even know his real name.

But what he said was true, Jongdae soon realized. All he would have to do was acknowledge he wasn’t as happy as they wanted him to be. Stretch the corners of his lips up anyways, and pretend.

“It’s a beautiful day today! Have a good one!” Jongdae beamed after some co-worker dropped off some files for him to look at.

The words sounded the same, the smile felt the same, but Jongdae felt different. Now he felt the urge to raise his voice at a co-worker who didn’t do their work properly for the fifth time. When he saw a familiar black van drive in as two people were dragged inside, none of them 338, Jongdae felt a certain sense of sharpened concern that pierced his chest. And when he thought of how he didn’t even get to choose a pair, didn’t have one at all, Jongdae felt his eyes blurring, his fists clenching, and before anyone could look at him differently, he strode into the hallway. Along the way, he remembered to smile, to act like 338 said. And it worked. No one cared what he kept inside, and Jongdae was safe to do whatever, to feel whatever as long as he smiled and said the words.

He locked himself in a bathroom stall and leaned on the walls. Crying was only understood in this society as an occurrence when someone was so happy they could not possibly keep expressing it through smiles. But Jongdae didn’t feel. Happy. Not even close to it. This was so…so different. Happiness was good. It made him work better, gave him energy, and he smiled more. Happiness was how society functioned. So what was Jongdae if he was not like this? Who was Jongdae if he was not happy?

And for a second, a dangerous second, Jongdae was tempted to reach into his pocket and take a pill because it was safer and easier, because he was feeling too much.

But he thought about 338, what he said, and he was too important to forget.

And he thought about Chanyeol.

Chanyeol who couldn’t possibly be his pair but who had been paired without his consent anyways.

Jongdae exhaled and walked out to the bathroom sink. There was something simmering his chest, burning up his previous emotions and raging across his mind. And as he turned on the sink and splashed his face, watching as the water dripped down from his skin, there was only a scorching desire to do something, to do something, to do something…

He didn’t understood what this emotion was, but he accepted it as it clenched his jaw, tightened his fists, and marched him straight to the information archives.

He pushed past the glass doors, strode through the filing cabinets until he found P.

P for Park Chanyeol.

P for Please don’t tell me he’s my true pair.

P for Pair? Not a chance.

With his heart racing, the previous fire extinguished, replaced by a constricting feeling as he flipped through the pages on Chanyeol’s file. A fist had reached in and squeezed his heart, and Jongdae’s heart beat back, racing faster and faster as he struggled to breathe.

 

Park, Chanyeol.  
Teacher.  
Pair:

 

Nothing.

Jongdae read and reread and reread the line over and over again, able to breathe finally. Nothing was listed, not even a scribble, a strikethrough, or even Jongdae’s name.

He let out a laugh, finally breathing as he shoved the file back in its place into the cabinet before shutting it. His chest relaxed, and his gaze softened, the tips of his lips just lifting slightly. If Chanyeol didn’t have a pair, then Jongdae wasn’t his. And if Chanyeol wasn’t his pair, then Jongdae’s real pair was somewhere here, too.

In a much pleasanter mood, Jongdae walked past the cabinets, and was just about to exit the archive before Yixing who was walking past it noticed him and called him.

“Jongdae!” Yixing said, walking towards to greet him.

“Yixing! I’m happy! It’s a beautiful day!” Jongdae reflexively said, hoping Yixing wouldn’t ask him why he was here. He wasn’t allowed after all.

“You’re here again,” Yixing said, glancing at the archives, “You must be doing something important here.

“Again,” Jongdae said. Maybe he didn’t remember the first time. “I was here again.”

His tone was as even as it should have been, but there was a certain pointedness, a silent wonder that Yixing didn’t want to confirm or deny since it was too late.

“Oh,” Yixing hurriedly said, waving his hands, “Never mind me. I was just joking. I’ve made a mistake. You were not here before.”

With that, Yixing strode away leaving Jongdae speechless. He stared at Yixing’s retreating figure a moment more and rushed out before anyone else could demand his purposes for visiting the archival rooms. Work was over anyways, so he was free…free to do whatever.

Jongdae hummed as he drove home in higher spirits, but instead of going back to Chanyeol, he returned to the town square because he had to tell someone, he had to tell someone. It didn’t take long to find who he wanted to see, really. He didn’t know why the enforcers had such a hard time finding him because if they really paid attention and looked at the crowd, it really wasn’t that hard at all.

And after he found who he was looking for, Jongdae reached out to tap his shoulder.

This time the man just turned around with a sigh as if he knew.

“If you insist on meeting like this couldn’t you wait until I sat down so we don’t make a scene in the middle of a marketplace?” 338 said.

“Here, here,” Jongdae grinned, leading 338 to a bench.

338 threw him an odd look.

“You’re off your pills,” he said, waiting for Jongdae to correct him.

Jongdae nodded.

“You’re off your _pills_ ,” 338 said, a true smile bursting from his face. He stretched out his arms as if he wanted to hug Jongdae, but at the last moment, just thrust his hands in the air with a delighted laugh.

“How’s it? How do you feel?” 338 said, lowering his voice, observing Jongdae, “Isn’t it amazing? You can feel everything and nothing at all.”

“It’s…different,” Jongdae admitted, “Sometimes not everything is good, but it’s so much. We were missing out on this all the time? I don’t even know what to call all these feelings.”

“I know, right?” 338 said, “Look at all of this! Feel all of this!” He gestured emphatically at everything at nothing at all.

For some reason tears suddenly filled Jongdae’s eyes as he glanced at all the vibrancy of the life around him. There was 338! There was the sky, the beautiful blue sky! There was so much, and Jongdae was feeling too much or maybe too little, but whatever this was…This was beautiful.

“This society is so fucked,” 338 sighed, dropping his hands to his lap before slowly speaking, “I’ll find you later and teach you other emotions. If you want.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae said, nodding quickly as he reached forward to touch 338’s arm, “Really, truly. Thank you.”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” 338 said, leaning back and relaxing into the bench, “I just gave you questionable advice and you followed it. It’s all you. We don’t have a choice but to take the pills, but not taking them is our choice. Your choice.”

“So I’m going to have to keep giving people these pills,” Jongdae said, reaching out to take the familiar canister.

“Do what you have to do to survive,” 338 said, pushing the canister away, “It sucks, but if suddenly all the people you distribute to are walking around like us, who do you think they’ll trace it back to?”

Jongdae took a second to breathe as he pocketed the canister. Around them, a girl accidentally dropped her ice cream cone, but she continued smiling as her parents cheerfully cleaned it up and promised to buy her another one. A man accidentally bumped into another man, but both went their separate ways after mutually apologizing and exchanging smiles. He wondered what would happen if everyone could feel more just like he and 338 could.

“I went to the archives to look up information on the man that’s supposed to be my pair…the one I found with no explanation next to me one morning. His name’s Chanyeol. And today I found out he has no pair. So he’s not mine truly,” Jongdae said, a strange thrumming flooding him, almost as if a song was trapped in his chest pounding at his heart and bones to be freed and heard.

“Wow. You really must’ve had to do something big for them to just drop a pair you didn’t even choose into your house like that,” 338 said, shaking his head, “I would’ve kicked him out.”

“Chanyeol isn’t my pair,” Jongdae said again with a laugh. He wasn’t! He wasn’t! He wasn’t!

“Definitely not,” 338 said, “If he doesn’t make you even happier, then he’s not a pair at all.”

They were talking a little louder than what was acceptable, but Jongdae didn’t care. No one stopped to tell them to lower their voices anyways. 338 still looked around occasionally, making sure no one approached and everyone was at a good distance away from them.

“Most people our age have already found their pairs,” Jongdae said. The song in his chest hummed pleasantly, spreading throughout his body until it echoed out of his expression as he looked to 338 to say what he thought, to say what he felt.

“You have one,” 338 said.

“I knew it,” Jongdae smiled, truly smiled this time. Of course he had one. Everyone had a pair, romantic or not, platonic or not. He was so relieved he didn’t notice the look that crossed 338’s countenance for a second before it disappeared.

“But what happened to them?” Jongdae said, “Why aren’t they with me anymore? And why can’t I remember...What type of a pair am I if I can’t even remember?”

Jongdae thought hard…frantically sorting through his memories, overturning every moment looking for something, for someone…for at least a smile, a hair color, a _name_. But there was just a hazy blankness. Just nothing.

“What about your pair?” Jongdae asked, turning to 338, desperate to hear something real as the song in his heart hushed.

338’s expression darkened and he turned away.

“I guess we’re the same. None of us have our pairs with us anymore,” 338 said.

“What…happened?” Jongdae asked.

“If I could forget what had happened like you, I really would have my memory wiped,” 338 said, tapping his leg with a finger over and over again, “But that was a long time ago, way before what happened to you. I don’t know what they’re doing now.”

Silenced was the music that Jongdae felt. Gone was the smile Jongdae wore naturally on his lips. There was suddenly only a heavy feeling that weighed down on his mind, and Jongdae reached forwards.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, reaching out to place a hand on 338’s shoulder. 338 looked up in surprise, but he did not move away.

“It’s alright,” 338 shrugged, “But I think…I honestly think there’s a chance your pair isn’t too…damaged since this happened to you recently. If you want to, you can find him yourself.”

“How?” Jongdae said, “How do I save a person I don’t even know?”

“Remember them. Try to remember,” 338 said.

Jongdae recognized that fiery expression dancing across 338’s countenance, and like any unmonitored flame, it spread until Jongdae was consumed with that burning desire to do, to act, to feel.

To remember.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae tried to remember.

He really did.

He tried to remember what his life was like with some other person. Maybe it was everything opposite of his life with Chanyeol now. If Chanyeol and Jongdae didn’t hold hands, then Jongdae must have held his pair’s hands as often as possible. If Chanyeol and Jongdae didn’t hold each other at night and press kisses into each other’s skin before drifting off to sleep, then Jongdae and his pair must have. If Chanyeol didn’t make Jongdae any happier than he was now, then Jongdae’s pair must have made him the happiest.

But those were only guesses, only ifs, and Jongdae wanted to remember how they had met, how much time they had spent together, how they lived together. He wanted to know what they looked like, what their skin felt like, what their laughter sounded like.

And he wanted to know their _name_.

But Jongdae remembered nothing, felt everything, and too often after he tried and failed to remember, he was left with tears on his cheeks and streaks on his skin.

Sometimes Jongdae swore he could remember _something_ though.

Instead of a clear memory, sometimes if he tried hard enough, he could feel a flutter in his heart, the corners of his lips stretch up genuinely, and a feeling, a deep feeling that was neither happiness nor anything else.

Something else.

But it wasn’t a person.

So it wasn’t enough.

The more Jongdae thought, however, the more distance he wanted between Chanyeol and him. It wasn’t that Chanyeol was a bad person or anything, no. In fact perhaps in another time, another life, maybe they would’ve been good friends. But Chanyeol could not replace someone Jongdae just _knew_ existed, so Jongdae lived his life separately and let Chanyeol live his, never purposely initiating any conversation, any touch, any thing.

Jongdae still could not avoid Yixing completely like he could avoid Chanyeol though.

Maybe Yixing realized something was not right, or maybe he suspected something. Maybe he had been the one to give Chanyeol to Jongdae and was checking in on how they were doing because more often than not he demanded to talk to Jongdae not about work or any possible abnormalities in distribution, but just Chanyeol.

Jongdae always answered the same, answered like he was supposed to.

Yes, he’s my pair.

Yes, he’s good.

Yes, of course he makes me happy. Of course.

Jongdae didn’t know if he was believable or believed, but Yixing never said anything to suggest that he knew Jongdae was not telling the truth.

But one day, Yixing didn’t ask him about Chanyeol, so Jongdae thought he could relax, sit down to have a conversation with no stakes or worries. He was wrong.

“We’re developing some voice recognition software,” Yixing said as Jongdae sat down, “It’s still in the early stages of development, but I would like your opinion.”

“Sure,” Jongdae said. This seemed easy enough.

“When I play you a voice, tell me if you recognize it or not,” Yixing said.

Jongdae nodded, and Yixing turned to his computer before clicking something.

“Jongdae,” someone said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. That was Yixing.

Yixing nodded and clicked another thing.

“Jongdae,” someone else said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. That was his co-worker.

“Excellent,” Yixing said before clicking another sound. And another. And another. Jongdae recognized the voices of another co-worker, Kyungsoo, and Chanyeol. And then Yixing clicked another button.

“JONGDAE,” someone screamed.

Jongdae inhaled sharply, and tears instantly rushed to his eyes.

“They’re okay,” Jongdae said, hoping that he would not be corrected, “They’re fine.”

He stared at the lights above to force the tears away before Yixing noticed because he was not laughing so he had no good reason to cry.

“That wasn’t the right answer,” Yixing said. Jongdae could hear the smile in Yixing’s voice, and it was a smile he hated. “You don’t recognize him.”

“I never said that,” Jongdae shook his head, still struggling to push the tears back. Was that person okay? What had caused them to scream like that?

“You can’t name them,” Yixing said.

Jongdae couldn’t speak not just because a sudden lump in his throat choked him, but also because he was confronted with the truth and could not lie. Not about this.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Yixing said, “You. Can’t. Name. Him.”

“No,” Jongdae whispered, and his chest tightened again with some crushing feeling he was sure 338 could identify.

After Yixing dismissed him with a smile, Jongdae waited until work was over to crawl into his car for a moment and give in to what he had suppressed. The voice triggered something in him, and Jongdae could feel, could remember little snatches of memories, of feelings here and there. Still foggy, still blurry. But still there, still real, still present.

At 5:30 after parking his car, Jongdae walked to the marketplace but didn’t intend to find 338, as he just needed to sit. Soon, sitting became thinking and thinking became crying again, so Jongdae supposed he couldn’t come home any time soon so Chanyeol wouldn’t see his red eyes.

“You look like shit,” a voice said before a person plopped down next to him on the bench.

Jongdae quickly wiped a stray tear and turned to see 338 sitting next to him.

“I can’t remember,” Jongdae said, his voice trembling as another tear slipped down his cheeks. Oh God. He couldn’t _remember_ what felt like something right in front of him, what felt like something buried so close to the surface of his mind. It should have been effortless, so easy to remember, but Jongdae couldn’t. The screaming from before, the person who screamed his name sounded right and felt right, but Jongdae couldn’t even remember what his pair looked like.

338 studied him carefully for a second more before he slowly spoke.

“Of course you can’t remember. If they wanted you to forget your pair ever existed, they wouldn’t be sloppy with their work. You weren’t supposed to remember,” 338 said.

“But I want to,” Jongdae said, quickly brushing aside the stray tear before taking a shaky breath, “Sometimes there are cloudy memories that I can almost grasp…like someone’s laugh. How an arm around my shoulder felt. A snatch of a sea breeze. The sound of something crackling and bursting. But when I try to remember more, there’s only a blur. Nothing.”

“You have a pair,” 338 said, “Even if you can’t remember, you do. Your pair probably misses you just as much.”

“What if I don’t,” Jongdae said. The tears had stopped by now, but there was no still calmness after. If he was missing something, if his heart had a piece of it carved out, then why did he feel heavier than he should have? “What if I’m just…making this up because I need a pair this badly?”

“Everyone has a pair,” 338 said. He still sat up straight, not looking at Jongdae but at the crowd of people who walked around them. “Everyone really does. Believe me. It’s the least this damned society could offer. At least we weren’t meant to be alone.” Jongdae didn’t dare look at 338’s face or his expression, but he sounded all right.

“So we’ll find your pair, alright?” 338 said, turning to look at Jongdae at last, “I’ve been dying to go back there anyways.”

“Then we’ll find yours, too,” Jongdae nodded.

A strange look crossed 338’s face, but before he could say anything, Jongdae noticed who was approaching behind 338 and immediately grabbed 338’s head and pushed it against his chest.

“Trust me,” Jongdae whispered, making sure his hand covered the rest of 338’s face.

“Hello!” an enforcer said as he approached, flanked by two other people holding big guns, “It’s a good day! Show us that man. He is not happy.”

Jongdae could feel 338 tensing up and he raised his other hand to rest on 338’s shoulder and grip it. He would be fine.

“This is not who you’re looking for,” Jongdae said as evenly as possible, “This is Kyungsoo, my friend. He is so happy he is getting married tomorrow, so he’s crying. Nothing more.”

“That is not Kyungsoo,” the enforcer said, pointing at 338.

“You are mistaken,” Jongdae said in such a cheerful tone and with a smile.

The enforcers looked at each other before wishing Jongdae a good day and leaving. The absence of questions truly made life easier.

Jongdae waited until they were gone for at least five minutes before he breathed and released 338.

“Thanks,” 338 muttered, leaning forwards and rubbing his face, “That’s never happened before. I’ve grown careless.”

“You were just unlucky,” Jongdae said, “Or I was too loud.”

“It’s Baekhyun,” 338 said, causing Jongdae to wonder if he heard him correctly.

“What?” Jongdae said.

“You called me Kyungsoo,” 338 said before his voice grew a little softer, “But it’s Baekhyun. My name’s Baekhyun.”

“I’m Jongdae,” Jongdae smiled.

“It’s good to have you here,” Baekhyun said, shoving his hands into his pockets, “It’s been absolutely terrible having only them to talk to. There’s only so many times you have to say you’re happy and the sky’s nice until you feel like strangling everyone.”

Jongdae was just about to ask how long he had been like this before Baekhyun’s stomach growled.

“You’re hungry,” Jongdae said as he stood up, “Wait right here. I’ll buy you something.”

“You don’t have to,” Baekhyun said, getting up to walk by Jongdae anyways. Alone, maybe they were undetectable. Together, who knew how they looked especially if they let themselves be like this completely with each other.

After buying Baekhyun a large plate of food, they sat together on the bench again. At first, Baekhyun ate slowly but gave up and all but inhaled everything in minutes.

“Thank you for that,” Baekhyun said before slowly leaning back into the wood of the bench, “Usually I just have to steal loose items of food that can be stored or kept for a long time.”

“I don’t know how you’ve been living this long like this all by yourself,” Jongdae admitted after Baekhyun placed the empty plate beside him.

“I don’t know either,” Baekhyun said, “but I still have things to do here, so I’m surviving so one day I can do what I want.”

“What’s that?” Jongdae said.

“How much time do you have,” Baekhyun said instead, looking around him again. He was always looking and watching. “I don’t think we can keep meeting like this in the open, and if we keep talking like this, the wrong people may—”

“All the time in the world,” Jongdae said before hastily adding, “But before 7:00.”

“Follow me,” Baekhyun said, standing up at last, “I know a place we can talk without anyone following us. It’s where I’ve been hiding all this time.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Where Baekhyun had been hiding all this time, as Jongdae soon found out, was in a series of underground tunnels that ran through the whole town. Baekhyun had said that the enforcers never looked for him there because it was too dark and it was impossible for them to navigate because they had no access to any reliable maps.

“Do you have the maps? Is that how you can navigate?” Jongdae asked.

“I’m a librarian,” Baekhyun said, shining a light around the tunnel, “Watch your step…It gets slippery sometimes when the water drips from the ceiling.”

“Those don’t exist anymore,” Jongdae said.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun chuckled, “because of me. I was the last one, the one that caused all the trouble, so much trouble that they had to destroy that profession.”

“Wow,” Jongdae said, looking at Baekhyun in a different light. A _librarian_. “What was it like? Being around all those books?”

“That’s why I’m how I am,” Baekhyun said, “They asked me to destroy so many books that so many people weren’t allowed to read. Books that didn’t make anyone happy. But you know, I was a good librarian. The very best. And they told us that books were supposed to be valued, to be taken care of, so I read every single book they told me to destroy and ended up knowing more than I should have.”

“So that’s how you realized there were so many things…wrong,” Jongdae said, almost stumbling on a rock he didn’t see until the last minute. The darkness of the tunnels was only barely kept at bay by the lights that Baekhyun shone around and an occasional weak light from the ceiling, but Jongdae was not concerned with any possible danger or unfamiliar territory. “Where are the books now?”

“Here,” Baekhyun said, and he could not keep the light from his voice, “I smuggled all of them slowly down here.”

And sure enough, Baekhyun moved the light away from the floor and the road in front, shining it along the walls to reveal books peeking out of the cracks. Big books, little books, red books, black books. All in as perfect condition as they could be.

Jongdae reached out to touch the spine of a white book.

“You’ve read all of them,” Jongdae said, turning to look at Baekhyun who just stood smiling as he looked at all the books.

“Of course,” Baekhyun said, “That’s my job. To know all books, to take care of them, and to help others find the books they need.”

“Which do you think I should read?” Jongdae asked before backtracking, “If I can read them of course.”

“Of course you can,” Baekhyun said, stopping in his tracks, “Books were meant to be read after all…Follow me. It’s in the heart of the tunnels since it’s the most important.”

Jongdae followed Baekhyun, being careful not to trip on any loose rocks. He listened carefully as Baekhyun told him how he didn’t even need the maps to navigate this tunnel even though he could have. Instead, he used the books to mark the way, mark which tunnel was which, mark which way lead to exits. Before Baekhyun disappeared, he said he had known that he could not last in this society because it was only a matter of time that his own distributor figured out what he was doing. They could only be tricked so many times anyways.

It was easy for Baekhyun to disappear, but it came at a price. Baekhyun trailed off after mentioning that, but Jongdae could guess. It was the same price Jongdae paid for something he didn’t even remember doing after all.

Soon they reached a little place where the tunnels widened and intersected in a circular room. There were apples lined up, water bottles stored on the ground, and a pile of blankets resting on the other side of the room.

“You’ve lived like this for how long?” Jongdae asked, thinking he could never survive the way 338 had been surviving.

“Long enough,” Baekhyun said, “I guess it’ll be for ever.”

“So you don’t have a plan after this,” Jongdae said, thinking that those blankets did not look very warm and the floor not very comfortable either, “You’ll just be avoiding the enforcers for life?”

“Oh I have a plan,” Baekhyun said as he walked over to a pile of books and began looking through the titles. “I’m going to the medical center to burn everything. We’ll save your pair first, but when you two are out, everything’s going down in flames.”

“What…happened?” Jongdae asked. He had been lucky all this time that Baekhyun had trusted him enough to lead him here, but he was pushing it. He knew it.

“You don’t need to know,” Baekhyun said without hesitating, “It’s not a pleasant story. It wouldn’t make you happy at all.”

“I’m not happy,” Jongdae said walking closer to the pile of books, “I’ve not been for some time. We’re both not happy.”

“Then maybe some other time,” Baekhyun lifted the corners of his mouth, but it seemed half-hearted. He then busied himself with carefully pulling out a white book with a worn spine from the pile.

“It doesn’t have a title,” Jongdae said, glancing at the blank cover.

“Because this book shouldn’t exist,” Baekhyun said, gently brushing off dust from it, “It lists all the emotions they tried to hide.”

“Here,” he said, handing the book to Jongdae, “Have a read. Learn what you’ve been feeling, what you’ve been missing.”

Jongdae took a seat on the cold stone floor and cracked open the book. Baekhyun pulled out another book and sat next to him, silently reading. He read about different emotions that were just as natural as happiness, and finally he had words for the things he had been feeling lately. Annoyance was when he was given more paperwork to do after he had just finished a large pile. Fear was when he interacted with his co-workers and Yixing thinking any second that they’d know what he’d done and what he was thinking.

And hope was when he could remember more than just little snatches of feelings and memories.

“Happiness,” Jongdae said in such a tone that caused Baekhyun to look up from his book, “is a pleasant emotion. But we don’t have to be happy all the time, right? You can’t be happy all the time…because look at all these other emotions we can feel. Pleasure, excitement, relief. Anger, frustration, grief.”

“This is humanity,” Baekhyun said after a long silence, “This is what we are supposed to be, how we are supposed to feel. Humanity is not happy all the time, and it’s okay.”

Perhaps feeling one emotion forever like happiness no matter how good it was supposed to be was the same as feeling nothing at all. Happiness seemed to lose meaning when one was always happy, just happy. It was easier to enjoy the emotion when others were felt in between.

The alarm of Jongdae’s watch beeped, signaling the hour, long past the time he was supposed to be home. There was a question written in the way Baekhyun looked at him, but Jongdae inverted it as he spoke.

“Can I stay longer?” Jongdae asked.

“Stay as long as you want,” Baekhyun said, the edges of his lips lifting up as he passed Jongdae a blanket.

The two of them continued to sit together until 7:00 struck. Baekhyun kept himself busy with his books, sometimes reading out loud before growing tired and muttering the rest in his head. Jongdae didn’t know why Baekhyun’s behavior made him smile, but eventually he put his own book down and spent the rest of the time trying to remember a person he wasn’t supposed to remember.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Even if the tunnels were dark and only illuminated by a few dim beams here and there, there was still light.

Baekhyun.

After spending more time together, Jongdae quickly realized it must not have been hard for Baekhyun to act happy at all. Because he already was. Perhaps not in the way society demanded, but in his own way. A better way.

Whenever distribution became too much, Baekhyun would take one look at Jongdae and speak in a disgustingly sweet way, acting cute, speaking and scrunching his face and fingers until Jongdae had no choice but to laugh again. Whenever they talked long enough that the topic of pills and pairs died into much more light-hearted matters, Baekhyun wouldn’t hesitate to laugh louder than anyone Jongdae had ever seen, clapping his hands when he couldn’t control himself.

And when Jongdae had told him he loved humming and was in a humming choir when he was younger, that’s when Baekhyun started laughing until he cried.

“Oh…oh man,” Baekhyun said, brushing away a tear as he clasped Jongdae’s shoulder, “Your mind is going to be _blown_ when I tell you about singing.”

“Then blow…my mind?” Jongdae said. Baekhyun didn’t talk like the others or use the same careful words everyone did, but Jongdae supposed it was all those books he read. “What’s singing?”

“Hum for me,” Baekhyun said, gesturing for Jongdae to start, “Your favorite song or anything at all.”

Jongdae complied and hummed at a reasonable volume, not quite sure what this song was or where it had come from. Maybe it was an old song he sang during his times in school, maybe it wasn’t. But it was a beautiful tune nonetheless, and Jongdae continued until Baekhyun stopped him.

“What if I told you it was possible express that sound as loud as you wanted and do more…more than just petty humming?” Baekhyun said.

Jongdae tried to imagine what that would be like, but he couldn’t even though the idea sounded wonderful. Music? At a louder volume?

“Tell me,” Jongdae said.

Baekhyun looked at him and hid his smile behind his hand before his shoulders began to shake and he burst out laughing.

“ _Tell me_ ,” Jongdae complained, shaking Baekhyun’s shoulders, “What is it?”

“Alright, alright!” Baekhyun grinned, raising his hands to surrender, “This is singing.”

With that, Baekhyun took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and… _wow_.

Jongdae didn’t know how to call this…Baekhyun called this singing, right? Singing! Oh, it was like humming but louder, but better, but so…emotional. If humming was meant to be used to practice music quietly, then singing was meant to seize everyone’s attention so songs could be shared together.

Baekhyun’s voice continued to grow louder and louder and louder, and now Jongdae was the one who laughed until he cried, his vision blurry, but his heart full and his smile bright.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae could only say after Baekhyun finally stopped, “How…how do I do that?”

“If I teach you, then you’ll have to sing with me after,” Baekhyun said before teaching Jongdae.

Everyone could hum, but Jongdae could _sing_. Or, at least that was what Baekhyun told him after Jongdae sang for the first time and he was met with awed stares. Singing was…everything Jongdae didn’t know he missed. Singing was free, lifted his mood instantly, and Jongdae thought he’d love to spend the rest of his life singing since he had lost so many years of his life to just humming, just a quiet, muted volume.

“Why do you keep singing that same song?” Baekhyun said, causing Jongdae to stop, “It’s the same one that you’ve hummed.”

“I…I don’t know,” Jongdae said, “It just feels right.” He continued singing, but this time slightly softer as he thought of why…There were other songs he knew by name. Why this unknown one?

“Wouldn’t it be something if that was your pair’s favorite song,” Baekhyun said in a softer voice, looking quickly at Jongdae’s reaction.

Jongdae’s singing took a sharp turn that sounded more like scream than song, and he suddenly stopped, the final note echoing in the cave. It was so funny, how the simple mention of his pair now brought such a wave of emotions, all mixed and too many to easily identify. What if it really was his pair’s favorite song? What if he hummed it to him to help him fall asleep? What if they hummed it together on Sunday evenings before the new week would start and force them apart? There were so many ifs, and Jongdae wanted something real.

Suddenly, Jongdae could almost see a blurry figure, feel blurry feelings, and for a second he thought as if his memories had finally returned to him. But the more desperately he held onto the fog and the more wildly he chased those memories in his mind, the faster they all escaped.

After a while, he was still left with nothing, no face, and still no name.

“What’s your pair like?” Jongdae asked, turning to Baekhyun. At least Baekhyun remembered his perfectly fine. But he instantly regretted it when Baekhyun’s face tightened and he quickly looked away, turning his head to face the shadows.

“Sorry,” Jongdae quietly said.

“It’s…all right,” Baekhyun said after a while. And that was that.

The two of them sat in silence, each thinking of that one person who was not here anymore. After a while, Baekhyun took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly until it turned into a sigh. He finally lay down, crossing his arms under his head as he stared at the black ceiling.

“You know,” he said at last, “they really messed up. They allow love because they think it supports and amplifies the only emotion we’re allowed to have. But do they know that we have loved people so much we thought our hearts would break? That we have cried thousands of tears because of love? Love doesn’t always make us happy. Fuck, it tears us to shreds and smothers us even when we’re smiling. And so because we love and they let us love, they failed from the very beginning. Maintaining total happiness in this society was doomed no matter how much they have tried to suppress us.”

Baekhyun continued to stare at the ceiling, but Jongdae stared at him as he tried to form any sort of response. Nothing he thought of seemed right, so for a while, he only said nothing. But his lips were buzzing with the desire to say something, and after hearing Baekhyun’s words, a fiery determination was kindled in his chest. He would not lose because he loved, and because he loved, his pair would not be lost.

Suddenly, a single word spilled out of his mouth, something that he didn’t think about but just felt. Something that he didn’t believe he remembered but did anyways. Something that was so simple but he loved anyways.

“Black,” Jongdae suddenly said, almost loud enough to be a scream, “His hair is black. I know it.”

It was only a hair color, but Jongdae’s heart was soaring, and with a delighted laugh, he opened his mouth to sing that same, nameless song.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It wasn’t easy to remember.

Jongdae had been lucky to remember such a concrete detail, but remembering was hard, had been hard especially when Jongdae wasn’t supposed to remember who he was supposed to remember. But remembering had been easier ever since Jongdae heard that scream, heard that one voice that just had to be it. That just _had_ to be.

Sometimes Jongdae remembered nothing.

He could sit with Baekhyun all day after work under the city while Baekhyun chattered as he organized and reorganized those books he loved. Those days were the worst. There was so much…disappointment. Guilt. There was nothing Jongdae hated more than forgetting the one person he should have never forgotten.

On those days to distract him, Baekhyun would speak about the outside world, the things Jongdae had been missing while living in this one.

“Did you know,” Baekhyun said after he glanced at Jongdae’s downcast expression on such days, “the sky isn’t just blue in the day and suddenly black at night. I don’t know how they engineered that to happen, but the sky doesn’t just fall black.”

“Then what is it supposed to be?” Jongdae asked, a little curious of how things were. How many lies had he been living?

“Oh,” Baekhyun said, “There aren’t any illustrations of it in the books I’ve read, but from the way they describe it? It’s beautiful, the way the sky wakes up after night falls and the way the darkness tucks the day to bed.”

“What is it?” Jongdae repeated himself, unable to picture anything but that forever blue sky and that pitch black abyss.

“They call them sunrises and sunsets,” Baekhyun said, stretching his hands out in front of him as he painted with his fingers and illustrated with his words, “And they’re beautiful, Jongdae. The book said that the sky turns orange. Red. Pink. Streaks of bold, beautiful colors across the sky. It’s like the sun bleeds across the sky, weeping trails of color as it sleeps and wakes day and night.”

“That sounds incredible,” Jongdae said, closing his eyes to picture what Baekhyun described. He had been so used to a blue sky that he couldn’t completely imagine it, but his mind was abuzz with such vivid colors, all of them not blue, anything but blue.

“I bet you haven’t even heard of rain either, Baekhyun said, shaking his head, “The things they suppress in this place. What. Rain’s too sad for them, too?”

“What’s rain?” Jongdae asked.

“The clouds turn gray,” Baekhyun said, pausing to watch Jongdae’s expression as his jaw dropped before continuing, “And they cry. They cry tears and tears and pour their sadness onto the earth. It rains so hard that you could dance in the water. Maybe some fool could even take a shower.”

“That sounds impossible,” Jongdae said, “The sky can cry?”

“It never rains here,” Baekhyun said, “So if one day you look at the sky and see it open up with streaks of red while the skies cry, that’s how you know you’ve escaped from here.”

“So you want to escape here?” Jongdae asked. But there weren’t any other cities. Just this one. Where could they go?

“I have unfinished business here, but when it’s done, I’ll go,” Baekhyun said, turning way from Jongdae for a moment to hide his expression.

He fell silent after that, but Jongdae couldn’t resist asking more questions now.

“Can I help?” Jongdae asked a little quieter.

Baekhyun sighed and turned back to Jongdae.

“This doesn’t involve you, Jongdae. Just remember your pair. That’s what you have to do to find him, so you do your job and I’ll do mine,” Baekhyun said.

“I’m trying,” Jongdae said, “I really am. I don’t know how to try any harder than I am right now.”

“Then I wish we could switch,” Baekhyun said so softly that Jongdae almost missed what he was saying, “I should forget. You should remember. But things don’t work the way we want here at all.”

“Forget what?” Jongdae asked, matching his tone.

“Never mind that,” Baekhyun waved him off, “Shouldn’t you be going home now before Chanyeol calls the enforcers on you.”

Jongdae made a face as he stood up.

“Can’t I just stay,” he joked, but he knew he could not. He still had a part to play, a role to act. If he didn’t want anyone to know that he was taking pills, then he had to come home. Be good. Act so happy that who his pair was supposed to be couldn’t notice a single difference.

Chanyeol had already wondered why in the beginning Jongdae came home later than usual, but all Jongdae had to do was say that he just had more work than normal. And because Chanyeol was happy, he didn’t question him.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Jongdae said as he raised a hand in farewell.

He said that every time he left, and every time he did, Baekhyun looked at him with an expression that Jongdae couldn’t exactly describe even if he had the words to use now.

But from the way his gaze would soften, a slight smile would appear on his face, and the way he let out a deep sigh before nodding, Jongdae had a few guesses.

Relief.

 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

On the days Jongdae remembered, even if he remembered just a small memory, a small detail, he would never feel happier.

His happiness was contagious on those days, and Baekhyun grinned as easily as Jongdae did when he remembered and was as excited as he was.

Sometimes Baekhyun would ask Jongdae questions that would trigger his memory. Questions that he would ask out of nowhere. And when Jongdae spoke, it was like his answers would be jolted and tumble out of his mouth just like that. Like the answers had been inside him this whole time.

“When did you start liking him? When did you know?” Baekhyun asked on occasions like this.

“When I hummed my favorite song for him and he told me to hum louder,” Jongdae easily said.

He trailed off in surprise before letting out a laugh.

Sometimes Jongdae didn’t exactly know if he was making this all up, but there was no way it could be…the way that his memory just seemed…

Right.

Real.

Suddenly he was hit full force with a vivid memory…Ah yes. How could he forget?

When Jongdae was in high school, he performed in the school’s choir for orientation day to welcome new students. They stood in staggered, straight lines and hummed their best songs at a decent volume because of course they couldn’t be too loud.

The orientation groups cycled in routinely, and Jongdae didn’t pay any of them too much attention. He spoke when spoken to when the main group broke off during information time and people swarmed him for answers about the school, the history, the classes.

From a sea of the same demands of the same questions, there was this younger boy. Before anyone else could capture Jongdae’s attention, he pulled him into a corner and quietly asked him to hum again because he loved it so much. Jongdae still couldn’t remember his face, but he could remember not being able to refuse even if the both of them were supposed to be speaking about school matters with the rest of the people.

Jongdae remembered…black hair. The softest lips he’d ever seen. Even if the remaining details of his face were still missing, he was sure this was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Who was Jongdae to say no? So Jongdae hummed the first song they hummed in their short concert, all while the boy smiled.

It was only when the boy shyly whispered that request that Jongdae was struck with the realization that yes. Yes…he was it.

“Can you hum louder please?”

He was going to be in Jongdae’s life one way or another. Together or not. Friend or not. There were things people did in this society, and asking someone to hum louder was not one of them.

“That’s when I knew,” Jongdae said as the memory ended but he was at least left with something to grasp onto this time. “Pair or not, he would be important in my life. He’d always have a place in my life. It’s so odd how I just remembered such an important thing only now.”

“Do you remember his name?” Baekhyun said, leaning forwards in interest, “All we need is a name, and we can try and find him.”

Jongdae searched his mind for a nametag, an introduction. But he remembered nothing, he remembered absolutely nothing else and slumped in defeat.

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun said, noticing Jongdae’s expression and reaching out an arm to touch his shoulder, “You remembered a lot today. You should be proud.”

Jongdae couldn’t feel proud anymore, not when he couldn’t remember his pair’s own name. So instead, he turned and asked Baekhyun.

“When did you know your pair would be your pair?” he asked, and before he could stop himself because questions fell out of his mouth easier than greetings nowadays, he continued, “Why do you never talk about them?”

Baekhyun didn’t turn away this time but instead held out his hand. He closed his fingers into a tight fist before relaxing them.

“He was my everything,” Baekhyun said after a while, “I had his back, and he had mine. I would do anything for him, and that’s why I’m here.”

“So you’re getting him back, too,” Jongdae said, “Why haven’t you already if you remember him? Know his name?”

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, Jongdae,” Baekhyun smiled.

Jongdae knew better now.

 

  

 

ϟ

 

 

While these secret meetings with Baekhyun away from the rest of the public were nice, they did not and could not last forever because Jongdae still wanted to find his pair, and Baekhyun was still 338. Still wanted. Still hunted. Still haunted.

There were only so many years, so many lucky escapes Baekhyun could make before he was found, before one day someone could catch him unawares and attempt to take him back.

To be honest, they both had been careless.

Meeting in an open marketplace and staying a little too long way past their welcome had not been wise. But after so many times of meeting here, maybe they had thought that they could blend into the crowd of happy people like normal, could navigate and weave in and out of everyone else without being stopped like normal.

“Jongdae,” Yixing’s voice echoed out of nowhere, causing Jongdae to gasp and turn around. There was nowhere for Baekhyun to go, as they had been caught in an open place, and diving behind the nearest bench would be too noticeable at this point. So Baekhyun quickly hid behind Jongdae, tried to make himself as small as possible, and hoped.

For the best.

“Hello! It’s a beautiful day! I’m happy!” Yixing greeted, extending his hand to Jongdae.

“Yixing,” Jongdae said, sliding on a smile as he reached out to shake Yixing’s hand, “It’s a beautiful day! I’m happy. It’s good to see you here.”

“Yes, I just thought that it was such a beautiful day that I should head outside for some nice, fresh air and buy some produce,” Yixing nodded, turning to look into the blue horizon.

“Well, you know,” Jongdae said, “Every day is a beautiful day.”

Behind him, Baekhyun prodded his shoulder to remind him he couldn’t just hint at things like that especially when such a high-ranking person was here, or especially when everyone was here.

“You’re right,” Yixing said, “Maybe I should come here more often. You must be here often, too, since you haven’t been home often after dinner.”

“Chanyeol must have told you that,” Jongdae said. Who knew what Chanyeol was up to now especially since Jongdae stayed away from home more than he stayed in it?

“Chanyeol also told me that you had extra work you stayed behind to finish,” Yixing said.

“Chanyeol also isn’t—” Jongdae began to say before Yixing interrupted him with a smile.

“Change,” Yixing forcefully stated, “is hard. Difficult. Not comfortable. But the more you resist, the harder it is for you to adapt and live. Chanyeol has been your pair this whole time. It would not be good of you to reject him.”

“I’m supposed to remember my pair, every moment I’ve spent. But I can’t remember Chanyeol,” Jongdae said, struggling to keep his voice at an acceptable volume, “I can’t remember when or how we met, what was the first thing he said to me, what was the last thing I said to him before I knew it would be him. There is nothing, not even a feeling I can remember.”

“You should go in for medical testing then,” Yixing said, “Because nothing is wrong. I’ll send you your summons. Have a good one!”

He then strode past Jongdae, but Baekhyun moved perhaps too quickly, or perhaps moved too much. Yixing noticed the movement and paused.

He then rushed around Jongdae to see Baekhyun who crouched, frozen, staring at Yixing. Baekhyun had been practicing this for so long, so after a second, he stood up, straightened himself, and smiled.

“Jongdae,” Yixing said, raising his hands out, “Do not panic. Just step closer to me, and things will be all right.”

“Things are fine, Yixing,” Jongdae said, and if he had the time, he would have laughed at how Yixing lowered his body and stared at Baekhyun, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“There is a very, very dangerous man next to you. Step away,” Yixing said, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Don’t worry,” Jongdae said, knowing what one phone call could do, “Put down the phone, Yixing. It’s fine. Things are all right. I don’t know what you mean.”

Maybe if he played it off like he didn’t know who Baekhyun was, then maybe Yixing would not risk exposing him to such dangerous information, such a person that Jongdae or anyone else should not have known existed.

“But that’s…that’s…” Yixing said, pointing at Baekhyun with wide eyes and a shaking arm.

“Jongdae’s pair,” Baekhyun blurted out, causing Yixing to lower his arm.

“You can’t be right. You can’t say that. That’s not right,” Yixing said, shaking his head over and over again, taking a step backwards.

“I’m…Jongdae’s pair,” Baekhyun said again.

Jongdae reacted for a split second, turning towards him with a look that he controlled effortlessly.

“Yes,” he said, stunning Baekhyun as he looked back at Yixing, “He’s my pair.”

“You already have one,” Yixing said.

“It’s not Chanyeol,” Jongdae said, “You and I both know that. So get him out of my house, and move my real pair inside.”

This was not the safest move or the wisest thing to say, but this was what he wanted to say anyways. Yixing attempted a smile, and for the first time, he couldn’t commit and let the half smile droop off of his face.

“Very well,” Yixing said, folding his arms together, “But you will be subjected to medical examinations. Both of you.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, “We’ll be ready.”

Yixing threw them one more look and hurried off into the distance, his hands fumbling for his phone so he could make the thousands of frantic phone calls Jongdae knew he would make.

“Sorry about that,” Baekhyun said, “I panicked.”

“But you’re not wrong,” Jongdae said, memorizing what the horizon looked like before night fell right on time. Perhaps one day he’d see a rainy sunset. “If we’re only allowed one pair in this society, then that must be wrong, too. I’ll have two pairs.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun said.

“Oh,” Baekhyun repeated, a small smile, a real smile blossoming onto his face, “You mean that?”

“Of course,” Jongdae said.

“I’ll be your second pair,” Baekhyun said, “Obviously not in the same way as your first pair just like you won’t mean the same to me like my own first, but you make me happy, too.”

“So it’s settled,” Jongdae said, clapping his hands together, “We have a week to figure out what to do before they do something to you.”

“That guy was just waiting to call me 338 wasn’t he,” Baekhyun chuckled before sobering quickly, “He was just waiting to take me in. The end must be close then.”

“It’s their end,” Jongdae corrected.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

At 7:00 the next day, Jongdae woke up to the sound of his alarm.

Slowly, he turned around sleepily, and smiled when there was no one at last.

No sprawling limbs, no heavy snoring…

No Chanyeol.

Instead of showering immediately, Jongdae changed and drove his way to meet Baekhyun and bring him home.

“This is going to be weird,” Baekhyun said, fumbling with his seat belt, “I haven’t slept in a proper home in years.”

“You can sleep in my bed now,” Jongdae said, “I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Some scrambled eggs would be nice,” Baekhyun admitted.

“Scrambled it is,” Jongdae said as he sped up the car slightly to make a light.

When Baekhyun came home, he paced around, touching the walls as if he was looking for any places to escape should the time come. He triple checked the locks of Jongdae’s door, peeked outside the curtains to see who passed by, who was staring before shutting the curtains and plopping on the couch in the darkened living room with a sigh.

“Do you get any visitors?” Baekhyun said, “Anyone who stops by your house?”

“Relax,” Jongdae called from the kitchen as he turned on the stove and retrieved three eggs, “No one visits me, not even distributors since…I’m a distributor.”

The admission was hard to swallow.

“How did you get recruited for that anyways?” Baekhyun said, his voice sounding a little more distant. Jongdae looked into the living room and found him leaning back onto the couch.

“I was the happiest,” Jongdae said, freezing for a moment as he spoke. Such a time had been so long ago. “Out of my whole school, my whole district.”

“I guess that’s the only requirement then,” Baekhyun said, shifting through the letters on Jongdae’s coffee table but never opening them, “Being happy.”

“There were other things, too,” Jongdae said as he cracked an egg into the pan and began to scramble it, “Like how fast I could make other people happy, how much I boosted the mood of the people around me, how much they’d listen if I told them to take their pill.”

“Incredible,” Baekhyun flatly said, turning around and peeking over the top of the couch as he heard the cracking and sizzling of the eggs, “But I believe it. You can make anyone happy, really.”

That might have been true, but Jongdae remembered not having any choice. After passing their evaluations and being briefed on the duties and roles a distributor carried out, he was given two options. Distribute or not. There might as well have been only one option because refusing was impossible and unacceptable.

“Here’s your breakfast,” Jongdae said as he laid a plate of scrambled eggs and a bowl of rice on the dining table, “I’ll join you after I make mine.”

“Thank you, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, and all but leapt up from the couch and sat at the dining table quickly to eat.

“Is it any good? I don’t eat my eggs like that usually,” Jongdae said, watching as Baekhyun began to shovel the eggs into his mouth.

“The best,” Baekhyun said in a muffled voice, his mouth full of food.

Jongdae continued cooking silently, and when his egg was done, he cracked the final egg into the pan.

Baekhyun waited at the table, half of his plate gone, but when Jongdae sat down in front of him with his eggs and slid the other plate of eggs to the seat adjacent to him, he began eating again.

They ate noisily, Baekhyun talking about anything and everything, telling him about books Jongdae _had_ to read, that one time he tricked some man that the enforcers were coming for him, and some highlights of his time when he worked at the now-destroyed library. Jongdae responded effortlessly, finding it so easy to tell Baekhyun everything, to joke, to laugh, to smile. To be happy.

“Are you going to eat that?” Baekhyun said, pointing with his fork at the plate of eggs that still sat untouched next to them.

“No,” Jongdae said even as he put down his fork, full for now.

“Then why did you cook it?” Baekhyun asked as he put down his fork as well.

Jongdae shrugged.

“It just felt right,” he said.

At 8:00, Jongdae left the house for work. Baekhyun promised to sneak out the back door of the house to avoid any neighbors if he wanted to go outside, and Jongdae promised to come straight home after work was over to avoid Yixing.

“See you,” Baekhyun said, lying down on the couch as he closed his eyes.

“Take anything you want from the fridge,” Jongdae said, “I’ll be back.”

“Have fun distributing _those pills_ to everyone,” Baekhyun said with his eyes still closed.

“What if I take one and come back forgetting everything,” Jongdae joked as he picked up his coat and unlocked the front door.

“Please don’t,” Baekhyun said in a small voice that made Jongdae turn around. Baekhyun still looked as if he was sleeping, relaxing with his eyes closed save for the little crease in his eyebrows.

“I won’t,” Jongdae said, resting his hand on the doorknob, “Don’t worry.”

As Jongdae left, he swore he could hear another whisper of _please don’t_ before he left work for the day.

Work was different.

Jongdae distributed to the same people, handed out the same pills, did the same thing he always did every single day. It felt wrong now, knowing what those pills did. It felt strange now, watching before his eyes as unnatural smiles spread onto the faces of his recipients.

Would Kyungsoo still be this desperate if he didn’t have these pills?

Would Mrs. Kim be this happy without them?

But his biggest problem, of course, was Yixing.

Jongdae acted as if he didn’t know that Baekhyun was 338, and perhaps he shouldn’t have, but he still mentioned 338 anyways.

“You haven’t found 338 yet,” Jongdae would say as he dropped off paperwork at Yixing’s desk, “If you have, you’d look happier than this.”

“You’re perceptive,” Yixing said, his lips twitching up into a smile, “338 is for me to worry about. Please just do your job.”

Jongdae nodded and picked up the papers that he was supposed to look over, noticing Yixing’s gaze on him. Oh he was just dying to say something wasn’t he.

“I’ve forgotten your pair’s name,” Yixing said, “Your new one. Do remind me.”

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, realizing he didn’t know Baekhyun’s last name, “It’s Baekhyun.”

“Baekhyun…” Yixing said, pulling out his phone. He didn’t make any sudden calls, only turning it around in his hands. “Things must be good with you and him.”

“Both of us are happy together,” Jongdae said, “That’s all that matters.”

“Tell me if anything changes,” Yixing said, “It’s a pity that you denied Chanyeol. He was much better off with you, you know.”

“Chanyeol was not my choice,” Jongdae shrugged, “So that’s not my problem.”

“You’ll go home at 5:30,” Yixing ordered, “Since Baekhyun lives with you now.”

“Maybe I’ll wander around the market,” Jongdae said, “Maybe I’ll see 338 and catch him for you.”

His smile was daring, and oh some of Baekhyun was rubbing off onto him. Or maybe this was how he was without the pills.

“Don’t get too close,” Yixing smiled, “He’s dangerous, Jongdae. If you get too close, who knows what will happen to you.”

“Have a good one!” Jongdae raised his hand before exiting Yixing’s office.

Jongdae went home at 5:30, surprised to see Baekhyun still at home. But of course, there wasn’t anywhere else he could be.

“I’ll order some takeout,” Jongdae said after checking the fridge.

“Whatever is convenient,” Baekhyun said after greeting him, “I spent the day organizing your books. Did you know you had some under your couch? I can’t believe the disrespect, Jongdae.”

“You spent the whole day reading didn’t you,” Jongdae said, pulling out his phone.

“There was this one book,” Baekhyun said, getting up from the couch to walk towards him, “Horribly boring. It was just some average life of a family. Mundane.”

“Can you imagine we used to have to live like that?” Jongdae said as he pressed the numbers into his phone, “But even then, at least we had little moments here and there that made our lives wonderful.”

“I think…” Baekhyun said, staring at Jongdae, “You remember more than you think.”

Someone on the other side of the phone had already answered, so all Jongdae could say was a _Hello! I’m happy! I would like to place an order!_

They ate dinner together, pretended like everything was normal, like they were just two people spending some time together, two friends living their lives together. Before going to bed, Jongdae remembered to move his car into the driveway so he would not be ticketed when the street cleaners would do their job the next day. And after just another day, the two of them lay down in bed and tried to sleep.

“Hey Jongdae,” Baekhyun said after not even fifteen minutes of silence, “Are you still awake?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, opening his eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Baekhyun said, a brightness slipping into his voice, “It’s just…After sleeping on the ground for so long it’s like I’ve forgotten how to fall asleep on anything else.”

“If you want, you can sleep on the floor,” Jongdae said.

Baekhyun restlessly moved around the blankets and stayed.

This time Jongdae was the one left awake, unable to fall asleep as he stared at the blackness above of him. He thought of someone whose face became clearer as every day passed, but someone whose name still escaped him. What did it begin with?

K?

M?

S?

After perhaps an hour of unsuccessfully attempting to fall asleep, Jongdae quietly spoke again.

“Hey Baekhyun,” Jongdae said before speaking a little louder, “Are you still awake?”

“Now I am,” Baekhyun softly said as he shifted in the blankets, “What’s wrong?”

“What if…” Jongdae said, “What if they’ve done something to my other pair. What if when I find him there’s nothing left to find.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun said, shifting himself until he rolled onto his side. Jongdae could feel him staring, “It’ll be fine. I know they’re keeping him alive somewhere. Down there, where we have to go, they won’t kill him. At first. We still have time.”

“So much time’s already passed,” Jongdae said, not that he could know how long he had been living alone before Chanyeol, before Baekhyun, “What if he forgot me, too? What if they made him forget?”

“No one forgets anything down there,” Baekhyun said, something steely edging into his voice, “Those who are kept underneath the building in the medical center are meant to remember everything that happens so that they don’t take their happiness for granted again, that the only thing they want is happiness.”

“So he’s suffering,” Jongdae said, feeling something reach into his chest, grab his heart, and strangle it, “My pair is suffering down there, and I can’t do anything about it.”

“We’ll find him,” Baekhyun said, reaching over to pat Jongdae’s shoulder before rolling back onto his side of the bed and pulling the blankets closer to him, “Don’t worry. I’m sure your pair is tough enough to last a little bit longer.”

Jongdae didn’t say anything and remembered what Baekhyun had said a while ago.

It was true.

He loved his pair so much even if he couldn’t remember anything, and because he loved like this, his heart felt as if it were about to break.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

The summons came sooner than Jongdae thought.

They only had perhaps a few days of living together before they received that letter with that only message inside.

 

 

 

MEDICAL SUMMONS:  
KIM JONGDAE AND BYUN BAEKHYUN  
HAPPINESS TESTING

 

 

 

“I guess this is it,” Baekhyun said, turning to Jongdae and seeming unfazed, “we have one shot at this…When we’re down there, you find your pair. I’ll do what has to be done.”

It seemed the wrong time to mention what Baekhyun had to do, so Jongdae just thought for a moment, grasping the paper in his hand so hard it wrinkled the letters.

“What’s our plan,” Jongdae said at last, “How will I know where to find my pair?”

“We just have to pretend like we’re there for a reason. The nurses on the main floor won’t ask any questions if you seem like you know what you’re doing. So just blend in. We’ll have to steal some uniforms, but I know where they are…unless they’ve rearranged the floor.”

“We’re just improvising,” Jongdae said, “What if we fail?”

“We won’t,” Baekhyun shook his head, “We can’t. Our only option is doing what we came there to do, so we don’t have room for error or for failure. You don’t want to know what happens to those they catch.”

“And what if I pick the wrong person? Think the wrong person is my pair?” Jongdae asked. Right now, he was not concerned with his own wellbeing, but rather was preoccupied with his pair. With a thrill, he suddenly realized that this would mean that he would be seeing him soon. Oh, what was his name! Would he be angry at Jongdae for forgetting? For being away for so long?

“You won’t,” Baekhyun said, “I know you won’t.”

He flipped the paper over, took a pen from the table, and began drawing lines.

“Here’s the basic map of the rooms on the main floor of the medical center. You have to know your way around this building, as one wrong turn can end your life. A right turn can save it,” Baekhyun said, filling in more lines and gesturing with the tip of the pen.

“What’s this?” Jongdae said, pointing at a rectangular room near the place Baekhyun just labeled as the reception.

“Where we’ll be sent first,” Baekhyun said, writing a number one on where Jongdae’s finger was, “That’s where they hold medical examinations. They always use the same room.”

Jongdae traced his finger around the room before moving it outside.

“One right turn and one left and then one right,” Jongdae said, letting his hand relax as he traced the map with his eyes, “That leads to a place with laughing people.”

He couldn’t remember any specific visuals or images of what he was saying, but he felt that was right.

“How do you know that?” Baekhyun said, looking up at Jongdae before he realized, “You’ve been here before.”

“You have, too,” Jongdae said, “Many times if you can draw a map.”

“Oh, me?” Baekhyun said, dropping his gaze, “I just have a good memory. You do, too, even if you don’t remember or can’t.”

Baekhyun spoke openly about most other things, like what his work was like, what he had been doing all this time. But he never spoke of this. His pair. What he had been doing here. Jongdae didn’t bother asking if Baekhyun would keep evading. If he were meant to know, he would have already known.

Jongdae studied the map of the first floor Baekhyun pushed towards him and looked at the black and white lines. The black lines were inaccurate because everything there was so white wasn’t it. The slightly wobbly lines were inaccurate because everything was perfectly angular and symmetrical there wasn’t it. The empty hallways were inaccurate because the building held who knew how many people trapped there against their wills.

Baekhyun then took the map away from Jongdae after a while.

“If you walk straight past three hallways and make a left, what do you meet? Where do you end up?” Baekhyun said, gazing at Jongdae, not the map.

“The restroom,” Jongdae’s lips quirked up.

“Good!” Baekhyun smiled before asking another question, “If you want to go to the locker room, how do you get there from the restroom? This restroom?”

“Take two right turns and one left,” Jongdae said, closing his eyes to picture the hallway, the bright lights above, the nurses they’d have to sneak around.

Baekhyun continued quizzing Jongdae until he could theoretically navigate the whole place blindfolded. Just from Baekhyun’s descriptions of the place Jongdae could now practically hear the heels of the nurses click down the polished floors, see the white uniforms that they all wore, and the long white hallways that stretched out seemingly into forever.

“Where do you think my pair would be?” Jongdae asked.

“There’s a few options,” Baekhyun said, pressing his lips together as his hand hovered over the page.

“Here,” Baekhyun said, pressing his finger on some place near the medical examination room, “This is rehabilitation. Where you located all on your own before. It’ll be easy getting him out of here because it’s left unguarded, but if he keeps laughing, we’ll have a problem if someone asks.”

“But they won’t,” Jongdae said, “Because they’re happy.”

“The nurses on this floor are more like that, but the ones below this floor, well,” Baekhyun trailed off before shifting his finger.

“He could also be here. Conversion,” Baekhyun said, “That’s also relatively easy. All we have to do is just unlock the door and take him out.”

“What about here?” Jongdae said, pointing to a space that seemed big enough to hold many people. Baekhyun hadn’t filled it in, drawn any stick figure people, or written the title of the place down.

“You don’t want to go there,” Baekhyun said, his face tightening, “That’s clearance. You don’t want to find your pair there.”

Jongdae pressed his lips together and looked away.

“Are you worried they’ll detain you,” Jongdae said instead, “the second that you arrive?”

“Of course I am,” Baekhyun said, “But what can I do about it? This is the first and best chance I’ve gotten in a long time to do what I’ve wanted to do to them for a while.”

“What exactly will you do?” Jongdae said. He remembered Baekhyun speaking of how he wanted to burn the whole place down. That couldn’t be all, right?

“That’s for me to worry about. You just worry about your pair,” Baekhyun said.

“You’re my pair, too,” Jongdae said, “So I’m worrying about you.”

Baekhyun looked up with an expression Jongdae couldn’t completely understand. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, reached his hand out, but took it back. All he did was incline his head, and shove his hands into his pockets.

“I’ll make it out alive,” he said as he got off the couch, “That’s what I can tell you. I’ll be fine.”

Jongdae was the one to not reply this time, getting off the couch as well. Baekhyun headed for their room, and Jongdae watched him go before sitting near the window, staring at the sky. It was always blue. He closed his eyes and tried to picture a dark sky, dark clouds, and rain pouring down from the skies. But no matter how much he tried to imagine, it just seemed unrealistic and impossible.

“What are you doing now?” a voice interrupted him, causing Jongdae to open his eyes and turn.

“You’re back,” Jongdae said, looking at Baekhyun who seemed calmer now, his shoulders relaxed and his hands at his sides.

“What,” Baekhyun said in such a tone Jongdae knew this was the Baekhyun he knew, that this Baekhyun had returned, “you thought I was going to excuse myself to cry? No. Crying wastes time. What are you doing now?”

“Rain,” Jongdae used, turning back to the window, “I was trying to picture these skies raining.”

“Did you think it’d rain that easily because you’re not happy?” Baekhyun said, looking at the skies and shaking his head at their constancy.

“No,” Jongdae said, “Of course not. I was just still curious on how something like that could happen. How does it work?”

“Rain is natural,” Baekhyun said, “Just like unhappiness, just like sunrises and sunsets. What’s unnatural is this society, this perpetually sunny sky, this attempt at forcing an elevated state of solitary happiness to us.”

“I want to see rain,” Jongdae softly said, “And a sky streaked with red and gold. Is that really possible?”

“I don’t know how far you’d have to run to see that,” Baekhyun said, “I’ve never tried leaving this city.”

“Then let’s leave,” Jongdae said, “After we get our pairs back and you do what you have to do, let’s run for the rain.”

As Jongdae continued to stare out the window, something fluttering in his chest, he didn’t notice Baekhyun’s half-hearted attempt at a smile he abandoned as he turned away, his shadows shifting as he moved.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It was just like every other day in that it was not. Jongdae woke up at 7:00 in the morning just like always, and Baekhyun woke up a minute later because he was a light sleeper.

Like always, Jongdae showered at 7:10, cooked breakfast at 7:30, and sat around at 7:50 because there were no pills to distribute in this household anymore. But at 8:00, instead of staying inside because it was a Sunday, they drove to the medical center.

Baekhyun, for all the years he had spent bravely surviving, looked tense, and Jongdae could not blame him. As soon as the doors of the glass elevator slid open and they stepped onto the polished floors, nurses were already busy walking around with patients, without patients, with smiles on their faces. Nurses who would love to take Baekhyun down, to strap him to a chair and force feed him pills until he could not remember what he had been doing and could not do more than smile and laugh.

“They’re staring more at me than you,” Jongdae whispered through gritted teeth as a nurse who walked past him stared at him too long for his liking. Baekhyun was 338, but Jongdae was just himself and he could not even remember what he had even done to incite such reactions.

“I really want to know what you did,” Baekhyun said back, slightly relaxing, “but they probably don’t remember my face. It’s been a while.”

A nurse suddenly stopped in her tracks to stare at Jongdae, causing him to shift their conversation before he could inquire more.

“You know which way to go,” Jongdae whispered as he resisted the urge to walk faster.

“I’m sure you know,” Baekhyun said, “Surely you must remember.”

“The reception is straight onwards,” Jongdae said, remembering his last visit and the map Baekhyun drew. He focused on leading the way, looking ahead of him to avoid seeing the nurses.

They soon reached the reception area where a man sat at his desk typing at what was still a blank screen. Jongdae recognized him from last time.

“You’re back,” the receptionist said as he stood up, “This time for a good reason you have clearance for.”

“Yes,” Jongdae lied, “We’re both here for a reason.”

“I know,” the man said turning his gaze to Baekhyun, “You brought an interesting person with you today, Jongdae,” the receptionist said.

“You can handle it,” Jongdae said, “There’s nothing wrong. This is my pair.”

The receptionist looked at him a little longer before glancing at his computer screen.

“Right,” the man said.

“Right,” the man repeated as a smile slowly stretched across his face.

“So you’re expecting us then,” Jongdae said when the receptionist made no move to stop them or check their access just like he did last time.

“Yes,” the receptionist said, smiling more certainly now, “Kim Jongdae and Byun Baekhyun. We’ve been expecting you for a long time. It’s good to see you again.”

“I was just here recently,” Jongdae said, “It hasn’t been that long at all.”

The receptionist instead raised an arm and sharply turned his body.

“Please wait here,” the receptionist said, gesturing to some white chairs, “We’ll call you when it is time for you to go.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae said, moving to the chairs. The receptionist watched them sit before he began to type again. The screen was still blank, but Jongdae knew he should not ask why.

Baekhyun fidgeted as he sat, staring at every nurse that passed by as if they would suddenly step out of the light to reveal dark garments and dark intentions for him. But no matter how worried he was, these were not enforcers.

In no time at all, as if they had been the ones waiting for Jongdae and Baekhyun, a nurse approached to take them to the examination room.

“It is time for you to go,” she said, grabbing their arms and leading them deeper inside the building, “Come with me.”

Jongdae let his gaze wander, mentally checking his map and the hallways to see if everything was as Baekhyun taught him. One right after the hallway would lead to a supply closet. A left would lead to a conversion ward.

Soon, the nurse led them into a familiar white room with no windows and with chairs and a table. Baekhyun immediately stood up, pressing his hands on the walls, tracing every crack and staring at every part of the ceiling.

“There’s no way out except for the door,” he announced after a while.

“Will that be a problem?” Jongdae said, “They can’t just seize us now, right? Right?”

“No,” Baekhyun said, “They wouldn’t do it here. Here, we’ll probably be safe since they still want test results. They’ll interview us together and then separate us for the medical testing.”

“I’ll go first,” Jongdae said, “Do what you have to do.”

“I’ll ask around for your pair,” Baekhyun said, “What I want to do, what I have to do does not lay on this floor.”

“What else could there possibly be aside from all of this?” Jongdae asked.

Before Jongdae could receive an answer, the door opened to reveal a smiling woman.

“Hello,” the two of them snapped to attention as the woman walked to sit at one side of the desk, “It’s a beautiful day!”

“Yes!” the doctor smiled as she folded her hands on the table, “Yes it is!” She stared at them for a while, but when Baekhyun stared back, Jongdae noticed that she could not meet his eyes.

“Please hurry up with the testing,” Baekhyun said after a while of nothing, no activity, “I have some work to attend to at home after this. My pair could also be working right now. You know he’s a distributor. He has important work.”

“Of course, of course,” the doctor said, moving at last, “It wasn’t right of me to keep you waiting, but I was just observing your smiles. You have very natural ones.”

“We’re supposed to smile naturally,” Baekhyun said in a sing-song voice. It may have passed the doctor’s tests, but to Jongdae he just sounded mocking.

“Your bond is good. You’re pairs. You’re happy together,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “Baekhyun makes me happy. I enjoy seeing him every day and spending time together.”

Baekhyun looked at Jongdae once before sliding a sickening grin to his face.

“Jongdae’s even better than what you think! He’s the happiest man of all, and I’m so lucky, so blessed, so happy to have him as my pair!” Baekhyun let out a mechanical laugh.

“So you two don’t fight,” the doctor said.

“Not yet,” Baekhyun said before quickly continuing before anything could be insinuated, “We have not started fighting yet.”

“That’s a good sign,” the doctor said, scribbling something in her notes, “Happy pairs don’t fight. You’re fine. We do not expect you to fight, so do not worry.”

“Sure!” Baekhyun said.

Jongdae didn’t know if it was the best choice letting Baekhyun talk. To an outside observer like himself, it obviously looked as if Baekhyun was taunting them, throwing back the happiness that they projected and demanded with bright energy and answers that danced on the line of being too risky, too inappropriate. Too. Not happy. These weren’t the things happy people said, but these weren’t the things that not happy people said. Baekhyun was skilled in the art of moderation, of blending in while still sending out what he wanted to say. Perhaps he was tired of holding it all in. Perhaps this was his chance to say what he had wanted to say all these years.

There was a storm coming, and Jongdae hoped it would rain once Baekhyun released the dark clouds that had been brewing for years.

But for now, the doctor folded her arms, made no intention of showing whether or not she was rattled or not, whether she was fine or not, whether she had caught on or not. Jongdae didn’t have any worries. Happiness was easily faked on the outside. He knew that now. What they couldn’t quite fool, however, was what came next.

“This was just the—” the doctor began saying before Jongdae cut her off.

“Oral test,” Jongdae finished, causing the doctor to give him a look, “Our medical examinations are separate. I know. I’ll go first. Baekhyun can wait outside before it’s his turn to go.”

“You remembered,” the doctor said, scribbling something on her clipboard.

“I’ll go first,” Jongdae repeated, nodding at Baekhyun, who stood up and pulled his chair back with screech before the doctor could stop him.

“Just remember,” the doctor called out without looking up, “He’ll have to come back for his test.”

“Of course!” Baekhyun said. While he kept his voice cheery, he didn’t bother contorting his face to the doctor’s liking.

“Jongdae,” the doctor said after the door closed behind Baekhyun and left the two of them alone, “I will say a few statements, and you will correct me if I am wrong. If you have to think about these questions…”

Jongdae zoned out of what the doctor was saying. He’d heard it before. If he hesitated, if he took more than a second for him to answer, then she would know. Yeah. He knew this already.

“You have been taking your pills every day,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said without missing a beat. He was a distributor, and he had to pretend this every day since he was meant to be a good example, the best one.

“You show up to work on time and do what is asked of you,” the doctor continued on, never looking away from Jongdae as she recited her statements.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, remembering all the times he had crawled out of bed even if he thought he couldn’t because it was expected of him to be there, to always work.

“You love your pair,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. He thought of someone who must be so close within the walls of this medical bay, and smiled.

“You think Baekhyun is good and happy,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. Baekhyun might not have been happy in the way this society wanted, but he remembered the moments where Baekhyun had smiled, had laughed, had appeared as if the sun had shone itself on him.

“You are happy,” the doctor said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said. In his own way.

He hoped the genuineness of his smile spoke for him.

The doctor studied Jongdae’s countenance for a moment before returning the smile and writing something down.

“You know Baekhyun’s previous pair,” the doctor said.

“No,” Jongdae said. That was the truth. Whatever had happened in the past had happened, but Baekhyun could not forget and guarded his own pair in his heart.

“Your new pair is good to you,” the doctor said, “You are happy.”

“Then it’s a good thing you got rid of my last pair,” Jongdae said.

“Yes,” the doctor said.

“Chanyeol will find someone better,” Jongdae continued.

The doctor stopped writing and looked up.

“It’s time for you to take your blood test,” the doctor announced, “Your dopamine levels do not lie after all.

Jongdae wondered how much time he’d have before they realized he had not been taking his pills.

“You have two needles,” Jongdae said, staring at the tray the doctor placed beside him.

“One’s to numb your arm,” the doctor said, “so you don’t feel any pain because pain keeps you from being happy. The other is to take your blood.”

“That seems counterintuitive,” Jongdae said, “I’ll just take one needle, so don’t bother stabbing me twice.”

The doctor looked at him curiously, pausing to write something down in her notebook.

“Interesting,” the doctor said before stretching Jongdae’s arm out and examining it, “As you wish.”

She stabbed the bigger needle into his arm, and Jongdae scrunched his nose up in pain and did not look away as the blood started filling the tubes. The needle hurt more the second time when the doctor pulled it out, and Jongdae pressed the cotton ball against his arm as it was taped down.

“There,” the doctor said, smoothing the tape down one last time before flashing a smile, “All done! Call Baekhyun in.”

“Don’t keep him too long,” Jongdae smiled.

“Hopefully we won’t need to,” the doctor said.

Jongdae opened the door and stepped out to a blank hallway. Suddenly he was struck with the worry that they had taken Baekhyun without him knowing. Only nurses passed him, some smiling at him and wishing him well, others walking by with a long glance. But there was no Baekhyun, just a vast expanse of white hallways and white walls. No Baekhyun, but patients who were escorted away that were not him. No Baekhyun, but –

“Jongdae!” sounded a breathless voice that caused Jongdae to look up and turn his head.

“I thought they already took you,” Jongdae said, the worry dissolving quickly.

“No, no…not yet. They have to deal with all the formalities and actually examine me first. Trust me. I’ve been here before,” Baekhyun said before raising a hand to Jongdae to signal he was still speaking.

“Look…in rehabilitation,” Baekhyun said, dropping his voice to a whisper, “I heard someone say that they had to move a patient because you were here.”

“My pair,” Jongdae said, eyes wide. His heart had suddenly leapt up into his throat, and for a second he forgot to exhale, holding in the breath, the hope of what was to come. Who was to come.

“If you hurry, you’ll catch him,” Baekhyun said, pushing Jongdae in the direction, “Go, go!”

“Don’t let them take you,” Jongdae said, almost tripping backwards to clap an arm on Baekhyun’s shoulder once.

“Who do you think I am?” Baekhyun scoffed, “I didn’t bring seven knives for nothing.”

“If you come out of your examination and don’t see us, don’t wait,” Jongdae said, already feeling the urge to skip down the halls, “Save yourself first and meet me back at the house.”

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun said, “I’ll survive this.”

With that, Jongdae tried to walk as calmly as he could to rehabilitation, feeling as if his heart would burst out of his chest as he made sure to make one right turn, one left, and one right again.

And there it was.

Jongdae peeked around the corner just to make sure it was all clear, but dove back behind the corner of the hallway as soon as he heard a door open and someone’s loud laughter echo across the hallway. Jongdae waited until there was silence again before he ran back to the door.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, and for a second he couldn’t bring himself to twist the door open. What if his pair forgot him? What if he was angry for forgetting him?

But as Jongdae placed his hand on the doorknob slowly, the cold metal jolted him out of his thoughts. He didn’t have time for this. What he had to do was find his pair and get out. They could worry about their relationship later.

Without hesitating any further, he opened the door and stepped inside, instantly hit by a barrage of those same types of laughs, the same type of frozen smiles, the same desperate looks.

“You’re here again,” a woman yelled as soon as Jongdae approached the first row of people.

“No,” Jongdae said, “This is my first time here. You’re mistaken.”

A fit of laughter caused her to not be able to respond, and Jongdae moved on, staring at every face for a couple of seconds before examining the next person and the next and the next and the next. No one screamed _I am yours!_ No one looked like forever. No one even looked familiar or made Jongdae’s heart race for the right reasons.

“You came here last time,” someone else cackled as he lunged forward with jangling chains to grab Jongdae’s hand.

“No,” Jongdae said in a small voice as he tried to pry his hand from the man’s hand.

“Yes. You and that other man didn’t listen to me when I said I was _happy_ , so I should be out of here,” the man bellowed.

“Another man?” Jongdae said, moving closer to the man and grabbing him by the front of his clothes with his free hand, “He’s here.”

The man looked at Jongdae, pressed his lips together, his shoulders heaving before he spat out a wheezy laugh.

“I guess you were punished for that,” the man laughed, “He’s not here! You’re too late! He was just moved!”

“So he was here,” Jongdae said, looking around the room in panic. He’d been too late.

“He was sitting right behind me,” the man said. At the sound of that, Jongdae ripped his arm from the man’s grasp, pushed him away, and raced to the row behind him.

Sure enough, there was an empty spot, empty chains where a pair of hands were once trapped. Oh, how much had he suffered? Jongdae clutched the chains as if somehow it would trigger memories of the person sitting here. They had to be tough, right? Since they had endured this for so long, right?

“A name,” Jongdae said, going back to the man and desperately asking, “Do you know his name?”

The man wheezed and grinned.

“Oh, you’re asking questions. It’s only a matter of time when they put you in here with me,” the man said.

“Do you know his name or not?” Jongdae asked, pulling the man’s shirt again. His eyes searched for an answer written in the man’s wrinkles, unsaid and waiting to drop from his lips, hidden in his gaze. But there was nothing.

But there was nothing.

There was.

Nothing.

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you,” the man said.

Disappointed, Jongdae released the man’s shirt from his grasp. He was so close…If only he could remember.

But suddenly, an alarm sounded as an announcement was made.

 

 

 

LAUGH UNTIL YOU CRY UNTIL YOU LAUGH

 

 

 

Jongdae ran out of the room just in time as a familiar gas sprinkled in from the vents, shutting the door as a louder chorus of uncontrollable laughter echoed. But he was too late. Even the tiniest amount inhaled dealt damage, so as he sped walked through the hallways, laughter fell out of his mouth. He still persisted, pressing his lips together as he hurried through the hallways, looking for someone whose face, whose name he didn’t even know. This was impossible. This was cruel. Jongdae felt as if his pair was so close he could reach out and catch him, but before he could even touch him, he had slipped away.

“Jongdae!” came a voice that caused Jongdae to stop in his tracks. Nurses around gave him a careful look but continued their work.

“Baekhyun, he was there but they moved him,” Jongdae said, fighting to keep his breathing even and his hysteria suppressed. It was incredible in the worst way, how he had just let his pair slip through his hands again. “I was too late.”

“Listen,” Baekhyun said, smiling nervously as he looked at all the nurses staring at them, “Change of plan. Let’s go. We’ll talk about this later.”

“No,” Jongdae said, “How can we go? He was just here. I was so close…so close…”

“We need a new plan. You’ve attracted a lot of attention,” Baekhyun said.

“Then you should’ve gone,” Jongdae said, failing to control himself and speaking louder and louder with every word, “That was your chance to do what you were here to do! At least you _could_.”

“You worried me too much,” Baekhyun said, grabbing Jongdae’s shoulder to calm him down, “You can’t save your pair if you’re caught, and I can’t burn this place if you’re trapped here. Let’s go and come back when it’s safer. Okay?”

A nurse approached them and demanded to know what they were doing here, but Jongdae didn’t care. At least he quieted down and kept his screaming internalized while Baekhyun smoothly assured her they were here on authorized business.

With a firm grasp, Baekhyun all but pushed Jongdae through the hallways, into the glass elevator, only stopping to breathe when they had started driving home.

“Thank you for coming back for me,” Jongdae said, keeping his eyes on the road but his heart back at the medical center, “We’ll find your pair, too, when we return.”

Baekhyun said nothing as Jongdae continued driving home, but smiled. Jongdae could only catch a glimpse of it before he had to stare at the road again. He couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

They lived in fear.

It was only a matter of time before their blood would tell them what their faces hid.

Blood didn’t lie after all.

But to both of their surprises, no matter how many times they locked the door, how many times they peeked out of the curtains, no enforcers were waiting to catch them or waited for them with their black cars and big guns.

“What do we do now?” Jongdae asked as they ate breakfast the next day.

Baekhyun fidgeted in his seat, half invested in his breakfast, half spending his time looking around the room as if the walls were closing on him.

“We pretend like nothing’s happened and nothing’s wrong just like usual,” Baekhyun said, “And we make our plans.”

“I’ll have to go to work,” Jongdae said, “To ward off suspicion.”

“I’ll stay here and figure out what’s our next move,” Baekhyun said, “Make sure not to draw any close attention to yourself…just like you did back there.”

“I won’t,” Jongdae said, “I’m a professional after all. The only person I have to worry about is Yixing. If he doesn’t call me into his office, I’ll be fine.”

But it just so happened that at 1:00, right after the lunch break ended, Yixing called him into his office.

This time he didn’t waste time with the formalities, with the hellos, with the _I’m happy’s_ , with everything that they had been supposed to do, no. Because this time, he just folded his arms on the desk like he was trained to, smiled like he was supposed to know, and demanded right there.

“Baekhyun is not good for you,” Yixing said, “You’ll have to give him up to us. We’ll find you another pair.”

“It’ll never be the one I want,” Jongdae said, fighting the urge to yell down but still hoping his words cut, “You’ll just keep taking until there’s nothing left for me.”

“Don’t say that,” Yixing said, raising his eyebrows, “Everyone wants to be your pair. Anyone would be lucky to have you,” Yixing said.

“Don’t mess with Baekhyun,” Jongdae firmly said, not bothering to sit down in front of Yixing. If this was all Yixing had to say to him, then this was the only reply he had. “He’s good. He’s kind. He’s happy. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Then ask him about his pair,” Yixing said. For once his smile was absent, his voice eerily even. “Ask him what happened to his last, and you cannot say that I did not warn you.”

Jongdae did.

Not.

Jongdae did not ask Baekhyun directly about his pair because Baekhyun didn’t like talking about his pair. It was as simple as that. Every time he brought up the topic of pairs, Baekhyun always deflected and talked about Jongdae’s pair, always reassured Jongdae that he would find his pair, that there was plenty of time to do so, that they would be reunited at last.

“I wonder if he’d like me,” Baekhyun said with a chuckle one day they were lounging on the couch pretending like the front door would not be destroyed any second and their house flooded by enforcers.

“He will,” Jongdae smiled and said so easily as if everything was all right, “He has a big heart. There’s room for you, too.”

“My pair,” Baekhyun said at last, “The one before you. You would’ve been very loved, Jongdae.”

“We’ll find him,” Jongdae smiled reassuringly, “And we’ll see if this is all true.”

Baekhyun just hummed and looked outside.

“One day it’ll rain,” he said.

“I’d love to see that day,” Jongdae said.

“But not before there’s fire,” Baekhyun said, keeping eyes on the view outside, “Not before everything burns like it’s supposed to.”

Jongdae didn’t know how to respond, so he silently picked up a stack of letters and opened them. One was a newsletter to a high school he had never visited or attended, so he was not sure why it was sent to him. Another was an advertisement for a restaurant that listed a phone number for delivery orders and a different number for reservations. And one was a letter that Jongdae should have seen coming.

 

 

 

 

HAPPINESS TESTING  
KIM JONGDAE AND BYUN BAEKHYUN  
MORE TESTING NEEDED

 

 

 

 

Of course.

Of course.

Of course.

Jongdae didn’t know what to say, how he could react because this was expected. Neither of them had been taking those pills, but it was odd how none of them failed completely.

Baekhyun must have said something Jongdae didn’t hear because he poked him and called his name before whatever else he was going to say died in his throat as he glanced at the letter. He reached over to pull it out of Jongdae’s grip and scanned the three lines again and again and again until he nodded, just nodded to himself.

“This is it,” Baekhyun said, waving the letter around. Jongdae didn’t have to read it twice to understand what would happen. “Whether we’re cleared or not after this, this is when we act. This is probably an excuse for us to let down our guards so they’ll take us after we get tested again.”

“So what’s the plan,” Jongdae said, “What do we do if I don’t even know my pair’s name?”

“We find him, both of you get out, and I’ll meet you somewhere safe when I’ve done what I need to do,” Baekhyun said.

“We can find both of our pairs,” Jongdae insisted, reaching out his hand towards him, “I’ll help you do what you need to do so all four of us can make it.”

“No, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, standing up abruptly before Jongdae could reach him, “This I’m doing alone. Don’t drag yourself down with me, alright? Take your pair and get out…I promise I’ll make it out of this alive.”

“You haven’t told me what else you’re doing aside from destroying everything. Is that really all?” Jongdae said, observing Baekhyun pace around the room as he nodded to himself and clutched the letter in his fist, wrinkling the white paper.

“I’m going to burn down the whole building, make it rain glass and blood and flood the halls with fire,” Baekhyun said without looking at Jongdae. The strange evenness, the calmness of Baekhyun’s words sent a chill through Jongdae’s spine. “For what they did to my pair and me.”

Jongdae couldn’t quite picture sunsets and dark clouds yet, but from the way Baekhyun spoke, he could picture this fiery rain for sure.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae stood in front of the mirror smoothing out his button down shirt countless times, rolling and re-rolling up his sleeves again and again, fixing and refixing his hair again and again, never quite being satisfied. It was not because of his nerves, the anxiety and slow panic of what was about to happen, what could happen, no.

He was dressing well, fixing and perfecting his appearance because today was the day he would meet his pair. It had to be. It must be.

There was no way after days and days dreaming of the best person that Jongdae could leave the medical building without taking his pair back. He would not rest until he’d see his face and finally, _finally_ remember his name. And if things were to go badly, if they would not make it, then Jongdae would be more than happy to die with his pairs by his side. Both of them.

“You look fine,” Baekhyun said, leaning on the doorstep with his arms crossed. He wore a shirt borrowed from Jongdae’s closet, but didn’t bother to iron it.

“Do you think he’ll say the same?” Jongdae said, re-rolling his sleeves again before pulling it down after staring at it for too long in the mirror. Nothing seemed just right.

“If he doesn’t, then they’ve taken his eyes,” Baekhyun said, striding across to Jongdae.

“They wouldn’t do that, would they?” Jongdae asked, letting Baekhyun take his arm and roll up his sleeve carefully.

“I’ve never seen it before, but I wouldn’t say they’re incapable of that,” Baekhyun said as he moved on to the next arm, “There. Let’s go now.”

“Alright,” Jongdae said, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He could and couldn’t recognize himself. And that was okay.

Baekhyun talked his head off on the way to the medical building while Jongdae drove, nodding and occasionally responding to Baekhyun’s ramblings. Yes, he was sure they would be fine. No, he wouldn’t leave without Baekhyun no matter what he said. Yes, he would never leave until he found his pair, would not rest even if it took years.

Yes, he was ready.

The nerves that Jongdae felt as he stepped onto the familiar glass elevator and looked beneath him at the bright light while they descended below were still not manifesting from panic, from any fear yet, no. Every step he took into the hallways past the nurses was one step closer to the unknown danger and detainment, but it was a step closer to his pair.

“Alright,” Baekhyun said after they passed the first hallway, “If we avoid the receptionist, then we’ll be fine since he’s the only one who seems to know or at least expect us…aside from the doctors.”

“Let’s blend in then,” Jongdae said, slipping a smile on his face and walking just like everyone else. Eyes forward. Smile on. Nothing said except for the bright, usual, mechanical greeting.

The first thing they did was change out of their outfits and into the white uniforms, so Jongdae belatedly figured out that all that work rolling and re-rolling his sleeves and smoothing out his clothes had been for nothing.

“You can’t roll those sleeves up or they’ll know,” Baekhyun said, understanding what Jongdae was thinking as he grasped the fabric of the uniform that hugged his left wrist, “You look fine, I swear. Let’s go.”

Jongdae nodded, and his fingers moved from his wrist to the skin of his fourth finger.

Soon.

“I wish there was an easier way,” Jongdae said as they searched every door for someone he still couldn’t quite remember, “What if we passed him without knowing?”

“Hello! Have a good one!” Baekhyun said as they passed a nurse before he dropped his voice, “I trust that you’ll know.”

“And if I don’t?” Jongdae said as they finished checking in another uniform room just in case. It was empty, save for two employees putting their neatly folded clothes away in lockers. None of them looked like Jongdae’s pair.

“You will,” Baekhyun said, closing the door behind them before anyone could notice.

“You’re lucky you remember your pair,” Jongdae said with a sigh, “How they look like…what their name is. I really only still get little flashes, little feelings here and there. It’s better than nothing at least.”

“It’s not always a good thing,” Baekhyun muttered, a dark look crossing his face for a moment. Before it lingered any longer and before Jongdae could ask why, another nurse passed by, letting Baekhyun take the opportunity to contort his face into a smile and greet them more cheerfully than Jongdae knew he felt.

“Hello! I’m happy! You look familiar,” the nurse said, looking at Jongdae and Baekhyun.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, folding his hands together to appear like everyone else, “We work here. Of course you’ve seen us before.”

“You were here with your pair last time,” the nurse said, “He has black hair.”

Jongdae had no intention of staying just in case they inspired suspicion, but the mention of his pair made him stop in his tracks.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, remembering a flash of black hair that brought tears to his cheeks after he saw it through the crack of an elevator.

“He has a nice voice,” the nurse said.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, remembering someone’s voice that tore out his heart with a word.

“He is beautiful,” the nurse said.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jongdae said, remembering nothing of his face, but knowing this was true all the same. If he wasn’t careful, he could cry right now just from the repetition of these three facts, these real _facts_.

“So,” the nurse said, pointing at Baekhyun, “That is not your pair. He does not have black hair, and –”

“First of all,” Baekhyun said, interrupting the nurse as he took a step forwards and raised a finger, “I’m stopping you before you try and implicate that I’m not beautiful because I _am_. That’s a fact. And second of all? I’m Jongdae’s pair, so go back to work.”

“You do not sound happy,” the nurse said, “If you smiled, you’d be more beautiful.”

Baekhyun inhaled loudly, holding his breath for a few seconds before sighing loudly. This was the emotion he could afford.

“I’m smiling now,” Baekhyun smiled, but the look in his eyes made Jongdae reach out an arm and step out in front of him.

“He’s my pair,” Jongdae said, “Go to work. We’re happy! If you’re happy, then you wouldn’t ask things that could make us unhappy.”

The nurse looked at Jongdae and Baekhyun for another moment, never breaking her smile until she walked away.

“Smile! It’s a beautiful day!” she said.

Baekhyun held his smile for another moment, just until the nurse passed him until he dropped it.

“I hate this place, Jongdae. I really do. Just because someone isn’t smiling does not mean they’re happy,” Baekhyun scowled.

“We can leave after we finish our business here,” Jongdae said after he opened a door and closed it after finding it empty.

“And go where?” Baekhyun said, “There’s nothing except this town, Jongdae. All the same people, all the same buildings. There’s no other town or road. We’re trapped by the trees around us.”

“We’ll figure that out later,” Jongdae said.

“Sure,” Baekhyun said with a sigh, “Because that probably ranks lowest on our scale of big problems that we have to deal with right now.”

“He’s not anywhere,” Jongdae said, turning to Baekhyun. He would not panic yet.

“Don’t say that yet,” Baekhyun said, bumping Jongdae’s arm with his elbow, “We haven’t tried rehabilitation yet.”

Even though neither of them liked visiting rehabilitation, they still went together, walking in slowly as they stared at the row of faces that were chained and laughing.

“You’re back,” someone called out, “With a new one.”

“It can’t be,” someone cried out.

“It is!” someone else said.

“A myth!”

“A man!”

“A god!”

“338, 338, 338,” the people began to murmur.

“You’ve been here many times before? They know you?” Jongdae whispered as they crept around the rows. No one looked familiar yet. He could no help but reach out for Baekhyun’s hand, keeping his other hand to himself, not wanting to be grabbed again.

“What can I say,” Baekhyun said, “I’m beloved by the masses. Everyone wants me I guess…even after all this time. Do you see him?”

“No,” Jongdae said, looking at a black-haired man and deciding he was not the one.

“No,” Jongdae said, looking at someone whose laugh sounded pleasant but was not the right laugh.

“Never,” Jongdae said, looking at someone whose smile looked beautiful but was not natural, not right.

“He’s not here,” Jongdae said as he reached the last row and still found no one.

“Don’t lose hope,” Baekhyun said, “There’s still many more rooms. He’s here. I know it.”

They had no business staying in the room any longer especially when Jongdae couldn’t find who he sought. So as soon as the alarm flashed and the gas began pouring out of the vents, the two of them ran for the exit. But they did not escape completely unscathed, as they both inhaled some of the gas and began to laugh.

“It’s—” Baekhyun began to say between laughs before a crowd of nurses ran through the building.

“If they haven’t reached their appointment yet, then we must send enforcers to catch them,” one of them called out. Jongdae pressed his lips together and covered his mouth to avoid his laughs from sounding.

“I think our time’s almost up here,” Baekhyun said a little too loudly.

“You don’t look like any of my co-workers,” the nurse said, turning around after hearing Baekhyun speak , “Tell me your names.”

“Have a good one! We’re late to work!” Baekhyun said, pushing Jongdae’s shoulder in an attempt to make him walk just ever so slightly faster.

“Come here,” the nurse said, “Show me your identification. You must be authorized to be here.”

“Have a good one! We’re happy, we swear!” Baekhyun said as they walked fast. They cut some turns, jogged a little even though it was not allowed, and soon enough an alarm started blaring.

“Well,” Baekhyun said, “now that’s just lovely.”

“We need somewhere to hide,” Jongdae said, noticing the nurses running around them, “We won’t last long out here.”

“Here,” Jongdae said, opening a random door and pushing them inside.

It had been an accident, finding a room that neither of them had been to before. Jongdae almost didn’t notice the chair in the middle of the room because after they shut the door, they crouched by the floor for a while, only staring at themselves and unable to do anything.

After a while, Baekhyun stood up and peeked through the window before moving back down.

“There are more nurses,” Baekhyun said, “We can’t go out without attracting attention to ourselves.”

Jongdae looked away from him and sat with his back to the wall. For the first time, he stared around the room, noticing a TV that seemed to be on blaring.

And when he saw who was restrained, strapped to the chair and watching the screen, he felt his heart almost stop.

It was like something had lifted his limbs up, told him to walk towards the man lying in the chair.

It was as if his heart knew even before he did when he stopped in front of the man and just stared.

There was a second Jongdae just kept looking, knowing that if he reached out to stroke the man’s dark black hair, it would be as soft as he remembered, if he made the man happy, his smile would be as beautiful as he remembered, and if he kissed the man’s lips, they would be as soft as he remembered. There were so many ifs before, but he was here now.

Real.

Right.

Jongdae took a deep breath as he gently placed a hand on the man’s arm, not wanting to startle him. The fabric of his clothes was soft underneath Jongdae’s fingers, and he slowly pressed down more firmly until he could feel muscle. The man turned his head when he felt Jongdae’s touch and looked at him with half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly as if he was on the verge of falling asleep. Jongdae let his arm fall after a moment of silence and nothing returned, but kept his hand vaguely stretched out.

And when the man suddenly strained against his restraints to slip his hand through Jongdae’s, when Jongdae clutched the man’s hand in his, when Jongdae felt and noticed and realized how right their hands felt together, that’s when he _knew_.

With a cry, he rushed forwards to undo the straps, all but ripping off the restraints until he could hold onto the hands of the man desperately.

The man, to his credit, could only stare at Jongdae and blink as his mouth opened. Neither could say anything.

It had to be him.

There was no way it could not be.

This was the face that Jongdae dreamt about every night and woke up forgetting every day.

And when he called out Jongdae’s name with such a soft voice, Jongdae felt tears leap to his eyes.

“Jongdae?” the man softly said, “Is that really you?”

Jongdae felt a large lump in his throat strangle and choke him, leaving him unable to say anything even now, even when all the words were pouring from his heart and just waiting to rain down from his lips.

The man shakily tried to sit up away from the chair, and Jongdae instantly felt his arms communicating what he could not verbally say as he offered his support and helped him sit up.

“Jongdae?” the man said again.

Something clicked inside Jongdae’s mind at last, and he spoke that one real truth that had been missing so easily that he wondered how he could have forgotten it at all.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, “I’m _here_.”


	4. Chapter 4

Suddenly Jongdae remembered their wedding, how they held each other the whole night long as if it was the last night they’d spend together. He remembered moving in together, how Sehun had insisted on choosing a house near the ocean so they could visit as much as they could when they were allowed. He remembered all the mornings he’d wake up next to Sehun, all the eggs cooked for Sehun, all the times he spent with Sehun after long hours of being apart.

And he remembered every smile, every kiss, every moment he missed.

All of Sehun.

All of this.

Everything came back to him in a single moment, and with tears in his eyes, he could only hold Sehun and cry, almost scream because here he _was_. Here Sehun was. Here was Jongdae’s happiness, here was his life, his everything returned to him at last.

Across the room, Baekhyun occasionally opened his mouth as if he wanted to tell them it was time to go. But he kept his distance, kept quiet, and let them be while he pressed his back to the door just in case anyone would enter the room and interrupt.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said so softly that Jongdae had to slightly release him from his arms so he could look back through blurry vision to make sure he had spoken.

“I’m here,” Jongdae said, “Sehun, I’m here…It’s me.”

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, reaching out with a trembling hand, hovering just above the skin of Jongdae’s face, “You have to be a dream. This can’t be real.”

“No, it’s _me_ ,” Jongdae insisted, hands moving to grasp Sehun’s shoulders tightly. Almost desperately. “I found you. I’m sorry it took so long, but I’m here. We’re leaving. Let’s go home.”

“Maybe they’ve finally destroyed my brain,” Sehun said with a shaky voice, still not touching Jongdae, “This wouldn’t be the first time that they tricked me with an illusion of you. ‘What makes you happy?’ they asked. ‘You,’ I always said. It was always only ever you, Jongdae. I have bled for you, cried for you, but even after they took you from me, I could only hold onto your memory tighter.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said again, his shoulders shaking from the effort it took to suppress his crying, “It’s me. It’s really me, I swear. I’m so sorry that they hurt you and that I had to leave you, but I’m here now. I’m real. You’re not dreaming.”

“Could this be?” Sehun said before his eyes widened, “Oh look at that. I asked a question. It looks like they’ve still failed to completely fix me. You won’t tell them I asked a question, right? Oh look…I’ve done it again.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said again, a wave of hysteria crashing through him, “It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

“They said you forgot me, Jongdae,” Sehun said, “they showed me footage of you forgetting my name, forgetting my voice. I watched you wake up to another man who wasn’t me. They gave you another pair didn’t they.”

“He’s not my pair,” Jongdae loudly insisted. Across the room, Baekhyun shifted, turning to look through the window of the door to see if anyone was coming, but Jongdae could only look at Sehun. “You are. I can tell you what is a dream, and it’s not this. I have dreamt of you for days and days, always waking up before I could see your face, and every time I tried to grasp onto something…a moment…a smile…you were gone before I could even say hello. You were gone before I could remember your name.”

“You know my name,” Sehun blinked, “You’ve been saying it.” He looked calmer now, his eyes no longer drooping, but wide open, looking all over Jongdae’s face as if he had begun to finally believe that maybe this was real. Right.

“I remember you,” Jongdae said, grabbing Sehun’s hand and pressing it on his cheek, on his skin where Sehun had hesitated to touch, “You are Sehun. My pair. My life. You have my heart, and the moment I knew it was only ever going to be you was when we first met. Do you remember what you told me?”

Jongdae hummed that song, his voice wavering, the song faltering for a minute before Sehun gasped. He stopped, waiting for Sehun to respond.

“Hum louder,” Sehun whispered, “Be louder. Be free. I’m here to listen for however long you’ll let me.”

Jongdae half laughed, half cried before he opened his mouth and sang just like Baekhyun taught him with words he did and he didn’t know. His voice echoed loudly through the room, and his chest soared with something he had words to describe now.

Soon a loud cry accompanied Jongdae’s singing, growing louder and louder until the room filled with a beautiful dissonance of loss and reunion, joy and something else. Pain and something else.

“How did you do that?” Sehun said after Jongdae had stopped. He gently swiped his thumb across Jongdae’s cheek to wipe away a tear and kept his fingers on Jongdae’s skin even when there were no more tears to brush away. “What is that?”

“It’s singing,” Jongdae said, feeling full, feeling complete, “Baekhyun taught me.”

“Who?” Sehun asked, never able to completely look away from Jongdae.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, finally turning around to smile at Baekhyun who continued to watch them with his arms crossed but his gaze soft.

Sehun turned his head at last, staring at Baekhyun quietly. Baekhyun shoved his hands into his pockets, inclining his head towards Sehun as his own way of greeting. Sehun opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and spoke.

“Hello,” Sehun tentatively said, “It’s a beautiful day.” He laughed at himself and the words that everyone had to say.

Baekhyun looked amused and pushed himself off of the door before beckoning them to come closer.

“Let’s leave before someone realizes he’s missing,” he said, looking anywhere but Jongdae and Sehun.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, scrambling to his feet. He brushed himself off before stretching out his hand. There were lights around Jongdae’s head that casted a harsh glow upon him, but Sehun stared even when it hurt to look.

“You’re real,” Sehun said, reaching out but not touching Jongdae just yet, “You’re Jongdae.”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “Yes, yes, yes. Can you come home with me now?”

Sehun blinked before a spark of something inside of him ignited into a beautiful, brilliant smile that lit up his face.

“Anywhere with you,” Sehun said as he finally took Jongdae’s hand like it was just any other Sunday morning and they were sitting at the dining table, like it was just any other Wednesday night after a long day of work, like it was just any other day in their lives.

Jongdae could only sigh and gaze at Sehun fondly as a smile slowly stretched across his lips. If no one noticed how affectionately Jongdae looked at Sehun, how real, how genuinely he smiled because of Sehun, and how he looked on the verge of pressing thousands of kisses to Sehun’s cheeks, then they had no eyes.

Or, they weren’t looking just like Baekhyun who had already opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, waiting for them to follow.

“Just act like you’re meant to be here,” he said, pushing his arm backwards to keep the door open for them.

“Happy people don’t ask questions,” Jongdae said as he walked out of the door, already acting like who he was supposed to be. He turned to Baekhyun and practiced. “We’re all happy here after all.”

“Do that to me again and I’ll just leave you here,” Baekhyun said, finally staring at Jongdae for a moment before walking ahead.

“You wouldn’t,” Jongdae brightly said, slinging Sehun’s arm around his shoulder so he could support him.

Baekhyun continued to lead the way, and Jongdae followed one step behind with Sehun. He was on defense mode, survival mode, if anyone took Sehun away now he’d kill them mode. Even if the nurses had wondered why a weary patient was being dragged out of his room, they never said anything because Jongdae acted so convincingly that anyone would have never suspected he was not happy. Because, oh, he wasn’t. He was so far from it at this point. His _hellos_ were vicious, and he tore into the syllables of every _I’m happy!_ like he was strangling the words himself.

While all Jongdae could do was just keep moving forwards, all Sehun could do was hold him.

Sehun had held Jongdae many times, countless times during the days and nights they were together. But this time, as Sehun held onto Jongdae for support with weary limbs, he could not stop looking at him for fear he could wake up any second, alone and lost. He did not hold him with soft, fond affection, but clutched at him, clung to him desperately as if he let go, he’d die.

“Don’t worry,” Jongdae kept repeating to Sehun, “We’re almost out. You’ll be fine.”

In front of them, Baekhyun navigated effortlessly as if he had been here countless times before. He was unusually quiet, but Jongdae supposed he was just trying to suppress the stress of the situation.

“Hello,” Sehun said, finally tearing his gaze from Jongdae to look at the back of Baekhyun’s head. Baekhyun almost turned around, but changed his mind and walked on, undeterred.

“Hi,” Sehun called out louder, “I’m Sehun. You’re Baekhyun right?”

Baekhyun slowed down but did not stop or look back.

“Yes, but this is the wrong place to be having this conversation,” Baekhyun said, holding out an arm, cuing them to stop as he peeked behind the next corner. He motioned for them to continue onwards after a few seconds.

“Thank you,” Sehun said. This time Baekhyun looked behind him.

“Don’t thank me now,” Baekhyun said, “You haven’t completely escaped yet.”

But he pressed his lips upwards in a way that could almost be a smile. Jongdae liked to think it really was.

“You brought Jongdae to me,” Sehun said, “That’s all I wanted.”

Baekhyun turned around again and said nothing, continuing to walk. In the silence, Sehun turned to Jongdae.

“Yeri,” Sehun said, “Did you find her?”

“Oh,” Jongdae said, stopping in his tracks as he suddenly remembered how many times they were almost caught trying to save her. How many times they failed. Suddenly he remembered what clearance was for again.

“I’m sorry I forgot,” Jongdae said, and continued without hesitating, “Let’s find her now.”

“Really?” Sehun asked with wide eyes.

“Of course. We can’t leave her behind either,” Jongdae said.

Sehun stared.

“I don’t know what to say,” Sehun said, “You’ve clearly been up to a lot since I’ve been stuck here.”

“It’s all been for you,” Jongdae said, pressing a quick kiss to Sehun’s cheek, “Whether I knew it or not.”

“Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, stopping to turn around, “You never mentioned finding a girl. We’re all short on time here.”

He supposed he couldn’t have because he had forgotten, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

“I’m sorry I forgot,” Jongdae said again, “But we have to find his last missing student, and then we’ll go.”

Baekhyun quickly smiled and greeted a nurse passing by, falling silent after she left, the smile sliding off of his face as he considered Jongdae’s words.

“The longer we spend down here,” Baekhyun said after a while, “the longer we risk getting caught. At this point I don’t even think they’d give us rehabilitation. You were supposed to leave so I—“

“She’s too young for this,” Sehun said, reaching out to touch Baekhyun’s arm, “ _Please_. We’ll just find her and get out.”

Baekhyun looked at Sehun, his gaze flicking from his hand to the earnest expression on his face before sighing.

“Fine. But I’m not dying for her. If we can’t find her in time, you need to leave so I can do what I came here for,” Baekhyun said. Sehun squeezed his arm in gratitude, and they turned the next hallway, heading towards rehabilitation to find Yeri.

This was their mistake.

If Jongdae had exited the building right now, they would’ve had a chance right then to escape without any confrontation, without anyone catching on in time. But because they made the decision to stop and save another, that meant there was extra time for people to notice what they were doing. And when extra people noticed, that usually meant they were in trouble.

“Stop,” one nurse said, “You’re doing something with this patient.”

“We’re transporting him to rehabilitation,” Jongdae said, smiling effortlessly.

“If you will excuse us,” Baekhyun said as soon as the nurse fell silent, “We’ll be on our way.”

“All patients should be transported in restraints or on a stretcher,” the nurse said, “This one does not have any.”

“There was a shortage of supplies,” Baekhyun said, “Management should really learn where to spend their money.”

The nurse stared at Baekhyun for a tense moment before erupting in laughter.

“That’s good,” she said, “You’re right…Perhaps if they stopped spending on _those things_ then we’d have enough stretchers. Today must be a busy day if we’ve run out.”

“Have a beautiful day!” Baekhyun brightly said, “I’m happy!”

“Have a good one!” the nurse smiled before walking off in the other direction.

“Where did you find him?” Sehun said in awe as Baekhyun turned the next corner and easily convinced a next group of nurses that they were happy.

“It’s a long story,” Jongdae said, “But it was an accident.”

“It was so _not_ an accident,” Baekhyun called from in front of them, “You wouldn’t believe how many times this guy sought me out before I finally decided to trust him.”

“Really?” Sehun said, staring at Jongdae again, “Jongdae went to find you? By his own will? This Jongdae? My Jongdae?”

“He knew something was wrong,” Baekhyun said, fidgeting with his fingers, “Even when he was taking pills. That says a lot…about what you mean to him.”

“Is that surprising,” Jongdae said, looking carefully at Sehun who seemed as if he was meeting a new person for the first time.

Sehun shook his head and clung to Jongdae tighter.

Just because nurses and doctors did not look at them did not mean they were not suspicious. Just because no one said anything did not mean no one noticed anything was abnormal. Maybe someone had discovered the empty room that Sehun escaped from. Maybe someone suspected something and quietly acted instead of confronting them directly. But whatever it was, suddenly an alarm started blaring, casting a scarlet light onto the white hallways and causing the nurses around them to walk a little bit faster and them to walk a little bit further away to avoid them.

“It’ll be fine,” Jongdae said, reassuring Sehun, “They won’t take you back.”

“They will if you keep walking so slowly,” Baekhyun said, urgently beckoning them to follow, “Let’s go.”

By now, Sehun could walk faster and more sturdily, a bit recovered from whatever they had done to him. That didn’t mean Jongdae didn’t help him along, walking with one hand on his back just in case he stumbled. Baekhyun walked faster than the two of them, remaining in front and alone as he led the way.

A group of nurses walked towards them, one pointing in their direction. Baekhyun hesitated, stopping in his tracks before opening the door beside them and pushing them inside.

“I never wanted to come back here,” Sehun said, pressing his back against the wall as they entered the room. It was always unsettling to enter the rehabilitation room. There was always so much laughter. So much pain.

To Sehun’s disappointment, as they scanned the rows and rows of people, Yeri was nowhere to be seen.

“What now?” Baekhyun asked.

“It’s _you_ ,” a voice bellowed from where its owner sat, chained to the desk. The man raised his hand to point at Jongdae, his chains dangling and clanging. “You’re back.”

Baekhyun turned around, opening the door before shutting it quickly.

“They’re coming,” he said, “What now?”

“Let’s do what we did last time and free everyone to distract the nurses,” Jongdae said, rushing to the front row of the desk and beginning to unchain the first patient. Baekhyun and Sehun entered the other rows and followed.

“Why do you have two pairs?” the man shouted across the room, “That’s not fair! Why do you get two?”

The people around them shouted, creating a chorus of cacophony accompanied by routine laughter.

“Two!”

“Two?”

“Two!”

“Pair…s?” Sehun asked, looking to Jongdae for an answer.

“Yeah, that other man is his pair, too,” the man said, pointing at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun froze when Sehun turned to look at him, his fingers holding the chains he could not undo right now.

“Jongdae?” Sehun asked again.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, looking up and saying it like it was the most natural thing in the world, “You both are.”

“Not in this way,” Baekhyun hastily said, blurting out his response louder so anyone could hear above the din of the laughing. When Sehun turned around to look at him, he pointed to the fourth finger of his left hand. “Not like you.”

Sehun stared a moment longer before turning back to help free the patient in front of him.

“I didn’t know it was possible to have more than one pair. How long has it been?” Sehun asked. He didn’t look upset. Just curious.

“A couple of months,” Jongdae said as he unchained another patient, “He convinced me to not take the pill.”

Sehun straightened up again and leaned across the row of patients behind him where Baekhyun stood, still frozen, still waiting for something, for someone to tell him to leave and make him all alone again. But those words never came. Sehun had a heart big enough for more than one person, and Jongdae had already insisted Baekhyun’s place was here. With both of them.

“Then he’s done good,” Sehun said with a smile, offering his hand to Baekhyun, “Even I couldn’t persuade him back then to do that.”

Baekhyun looked in disbelief, staring at Sehun and his smile before he hesitantly took Sehun’s hand. Sehun grasped it tighter and swayed their clasped hands around before nodding and going back to work. Baekhyun stared a moment longer before he bent his head down, removing the chains at double the speed to make up for all the time he lost. He smiled the entire time to himself.

After all the patients were unchained, Jongdae, Sehun, and Baekhyun stood at the door expectantly, waiting for them to leave. But none of the patients moved from their seats even if they were free, and it was only a matter of time before the nurses would check on them.

Jongdae took a deep breath and yelled.

“Get _out_ ,” he bellowed, startling the patients. The man shakily stood up, stared at his hands, and then leapt towards the door. Soon, the others stood up and assembled themselves into a straight line, slowly following the man. Jongdae held the door open and directed the people outside.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said so quietly that Jongdae had to lean closer to hear him while he still held the door open.

“Yes?” Jongdae said.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said a little louder, “I don’t think I can recognize you right now.”

It was probably true. The Jongdae that Sehun remembered died the day they were separated. If Jongdae stopped to look back, look at himself in the mirror again, maybe he wouldn’t recognize himself either. But there was nothing he could do. Looking backwards would just take more time they didn’t have, so he could only move forwards, be forwards forever.

“That’s not bad,” Jongdae said before hastily adding as soon as Sehun continued staring at him silently, “Right?”

Sehun furrowed his eyebrows and smiled at him oddly, as if Jongdae was so wrong for even thinking that.

“Of course not…Not at all,” Sehun shook his head, “I’ll love this new you, too.”

“Love,” Baekhyun murmured to himself as he watched the people escape. He spoke loudly enough that Jongdae could still hear.

Once all the patients were outside, they stood around, staring at nothing in particular. But when they saw the nurses hurriedly approach, calling them to get back inside, they took off, remembering they could run, remembering they were free. Jongdae watched them from the doorframe a little longer before Baekhyun grabbed his hand and Sehun’s hand and lead them in the opposite direction.

They calmly walked under the lights that flickered red now as the alarm continued to wail, only letting out their breath when nurses passed by them without confrontation. Soon, the way they wished to go was blocked by a group of nurses who stood in front of the doors, guarding the exits and crowding the way through.

That didn’t seem to be a problem for Baekhyun.

“Two right turns. One left,” Baekhyun said, pointing in the opposite direction, “Wait there until it’s clear enough and the nurses have left so you can continue finding the student. The third door on the hallway after you turn left is a good hiding spot.”

“Where are you going?” Jongdae said, following him instead, “We’re coming with you.”

“It’s not safe for you,” Baekhyun said, raising a hand to force Jongdae to stop.

“Someone has to make sure you’re not killed,” Jongdae said.

“You have to return, too,” Sehun said, “Don’t suffer if you’re caught. I’m telling you…it’s not pleasant at all.”

“You two already found each other, so just leave me by myself,” Baekhyun said, sweeping his arm out for emphasis, “There are things I have to do that you should not see.”

There was a silence…a silence during which Baekhyun probably expected something to happen, someone to say something, two people to leave. So when nothing was said and no one left, he dropped his gaze to the floor and crossed his arms.

Jongdae turned to Sehun, wordlessly asking him something through his expression and a tilt of his head. Sehun looked thoughtful for a moment, staring at Baekhyun before nodding slowly, and that was all Jongdae needed.

“We’re going with you, Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, “You do whatever you have to do, but you cannot expect us to leave without you like it’s nothing. This is how it is, you and us. We’re for forever, stronger together.”

Baekhyun considered his options, noticed the nurses lurking around, and sighed. He clenched his own hand as he dragged his gaze from Jongdae and Sehun, noticing how close they were, how tight their own hands were grasped.

“You can’t mean that,” he said.

“We do,” Jongdae said.

“We do,” Sehun echoed the sentiment.

Baekhyun’s expression relaxed, and he took a deep breath before beckoning them to follow.

“I guess you’re going to see me at my worst,” Baekhyun said, throwing open the door to the stairs. This set of stairs only lead down, not up, so instead of escaping, they only plunged themselves deeper and deeper.

“We’ve been here,” Jongdae said after they opened the door to the lower levels and cautiously peeked out. An image of what had happened suddenly hurtled itself at him, and he remembered being dragged through these halls. “We met the enforcers and lower management.”

“They won’t take you away from me like last time,” Sehun said, taking the first step onto the floor, “I promise.”

“Want a knife then?” Baekhyun said, slipping up his sleeve revealing multiple knives strapped to his arm. He spoke softer this time, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Who really are you?” Sehun said even as he carefully pulled a sheathed knife free and held it in the air, examining it under the bright lights.

“Someone who’s got a long list of grievances against every single person in this building,” Baekhyun said, half pulling his sleeve down.

“So someone like me,” Sehun said, unsheathing it for a moment and staring at the metallic glint and the way the lights reflected off of it. Baekhyun’s gaze flicked upwards as he spoke.

“Guess so,” Baekhyun said and pulled his whole sleeve down.

“Thanks,” Sehun said, “That’ll be our last resort.”

“You’re too nice,” Baekhyun said, “many of them will hurt you before you even get a chance to pull it out.

“Don’t you think I know that already?” Sehun said, tapping on his head with a finger. There were no scars on his skin, but Jongdae couldn’t imagine what things they had done to him that did not require a knife or a scalpel.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun said, “Still. I guess I’m not surprised a person like you still wants to find a student instead of just escaping.”

“Who will if we don’t?” Sehun said. That part of Sehun was still the same, still unchanged no matter what pills he took or not, what treatment he had received here or not.

“We?” Baekhyun said, more to himself.

Jongdae walked ahead, letting them continue their conversation. He focused on leading them, but there wasn’t anything he could willingly do. They had to turn right if enforcers were stationed on the left. Left if the enforcers were right. Forwards if they were behind them.

As they walked deeper into the lower level and passed a hallway they could not choose to go through, Baekhyun’s expression tightened.

“No,” he said to himself as they were forced to turn left.

“No,” he said a little louder when they could only continue onwards after checking all the locked doors.

“No,” he said as they approached a metal door, “No, no, _no_ …”

He finally stopped in his tracks, clutching his head in his hands as he paced back and forth, his eyes shut tight.

“Baekhyun, what’s wrong?” Jongdae said, reaching out to catch Baekhyun’s shoulders.

“ _No_ ,” Baekhyun said, “I can’t be here…”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Jongdae said, pressing his hand to Baekhyun’s forehead, searching him for answers he couldn’t give. Sehun looked at Baekhyun with concern, placing his hand on Baekhyun’s back and rubbing it.

“I wanted to forget,” Baekhyun said, still with his eyes closed, “It’s been _years_ and I still know the exact way, the exact doors I opened to get there.”

“We can try and go a different way for you,” Jongdae said, tilting his head towards Sehun and silently signaling for him to check if the way back was clear.

Sehun nodded and retraced their steps, peeking out of the hallway before quickly returning.

“Can’t,” he said, “there are enforcers coming.”

“Of course there are,” Baekhyun said, his countenance twisting up as if he was in pain.

The only way was to go forwards, through the door whether Baekhyun liked it or not.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, moving his hand to touch Baekhyun’s arm, “we have to go.”

“It’ll be alright, Baekhyun,” Sehun said, but Baekhyun just fell to his knees, crouching down, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, but Baekhyun still remained on the floor.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said a little louder.

Baekhyun looked up at last, taking his hands slowly off of his ears. There was a mixture of different emotions swirling on his countenance, some nameable, some not. All of them combined to form a look Jongdae never wanted to see on his face ever again.

“We have to go,” Jongdae said, pointing towards the door, “But you’ll be fine. Really and truly.”

“How do you know that?” Baekhyun said.

“Because you’re not alone,” Jongdae smiled.

Sehun stretched out his hand to Baekhyun and waited.

Baekhyun didn’t know where to look. One moment he stared at Jongdae, his lips slightly twitching up as if to try and mimic his smile, and the other moment he stared at Sehun’s hand. As the seconds passed, his expression relaxed into something purer. Softer. Sweeter.

Hesitantly, he reached out, fingers mere centimeters from Sehun’s hand before taking a deep breath and sliding his hand into Sehun’s. Sehun smiled as he helped Baekhyun upwards.

“What you’re going to see when we enter this door…is not good,” Baekhyun said as the three of them finally stood in front of the metal door.

“We’re used to that by now,” Jongdae said.

“No,” Baekhyun said, tensing up again, “Listen…if you thought what you saw back there was bad, then…Nothing can ever prepare you for what you’ll see here.”

None of them had any answer to that, so Jongdae opened the door before Baekhyun changed his mind and closed it behind them after everyone entered. He didn’t know what he expected, but it was not this. There was only a long empty hallway, just like what they had been accustomed to. But this time there were no doors and rooms on the side of the walls. With every step they took, it was impossible not to feel as if the walls were closing in on them. Jongdae could hear Baekhyun breathing loudly, deeply beside him, and he wondered what could be so bad about what lay ahead. At the end of the hallway, Sehun reached out to the only door available and opened it.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun muttered under his breath.

They entered another hallway with lighting dimmer than what they were used to. The walls seemed darker, the floor duller, and this time there were only three doors at the end.

“Whatever we do,” Baekhyun said, “I cannot go in that door.”

He pointed with a shaking finger to the door on the left. It looked like just any other door, but then again. All the doors looked the same here. No one wanted to find out what was inside.

“We have three doors,” Jongdae said, “We’ll just go through one of the other two.”

Baekhyun only grew increasingly jittery as they checked each door, the first one locked. The second one locked. Whatever Jongdae and Sehun tried to say had no effect on calming him, and it was only a matter of time before Baekhyun panicked loudly.

“We’ll just go back,” Baekhyun said, “I can’t—”

The words died on his throat as he opened the door that lead backwards and found a crowd of enforcers heading towards them.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Baekhyun said, almost sobbing.

“It’s okay,” Jongdae said as soothingly as possible, “Close your eyes. We’ll lead you inside.”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything more and shut his eyes, covering his face in his hands. Jongdae took Baekhyun’s right arm, Sehun his left, and on they marched.

Jongdae didn’t know what he was expecting, but when he opened the door with a racing heart, he couldn’t understand what was so wrong. There were only rows of large metal columns that held the ceiling up. Nothing else. Not even a single other person.

Jongdae and Sehun exchanged looks, and Sehun shrugged. They relaxed for a moment, but only just a moment because Baekhyun’s shoulders began to shake as soon as the door closed behind them loudly, the slam echoing into the room. Jongdae didn’t know how many rows of columns there were, but with every step they took he found more than he had thought. He reached out to touch one, snatching back his hand after finding the surface cold. Nothing happened even after he touched it, and even the buttons on the control pad beside it remained unlit. Maybe what Baekhyun was afraid of was deep inside the room. But when they reached the end of everything, there was only a wall.

“Are you sure this is the right place you were thinking of?” Jongdae asked.

Baekhyun slowly lowered his hands from his face and opened his eyes. His expression immediately crumpled as he stared at the metal columns and he took a shaky breath. This time he did not fall to the floor in panic, but turned around where he stood, staring at everything around him.

“This is it,” Baekhyun said, hands balling up into fists.

“You should not be here,” a voice said before Jongdae could even react. It was a familiar voice, one that Jongdae heard every day he arrived to work and every night he left. Jongdae didn’t want to hear this voice here, but at least he was not afraid of it.

“Yixing?” Jongdae said.

Sure enough, Yixing stepped out from a metal column and walked towards them. Baekhyun’s expression immediately pulled down into a deep scowl.

“Jongdae, you’re a long way from home,” Yixing said, hands in his pockets.

“You’re a long way from upper management,” Jongdae said, “You shouldn’t be here, too.”

“I wish,” Yixing said, flashing a smile for a moment, “I’m afraid all of you are in trouble…If you hand over Baekhyun, I’ll see what I can do for you and Sehun.”

“No,” Jongdae said. There was no bite to his words, no anger, but just a simple, casual refusal. He never had to think about his response because that was the only answer he could give.

“You think he’s your pair and a good person. A happy one,” Yixing said, “but you’re wrong. He’s dangerous. I bet you don’t even know what he did to his first pair.”

Baekhyun sucked in some air sharply and pointed at Yixing accusingly.

“That’s a very dangerous line you don’t want to cross,” Baekhyun said, anger simmering beneath his words.

“Ask him yourself, Jongdae,” Yixing said, “Ask him, and by the end, I’m sure it’ll be easy to negotiate you and Sehun walking away from all of this because you’ll want to leave Baekhyun once you know.”

“What you did can’t be bad,” Jongdae said, turning to Baekhyun, “I’m sure they’re just trying to separate us again. Right?”

Baekhyun did not meet Jongdae’s gaze, but slowly circled around one of the silver columns. He glanced at Yixing and smiled.

“Before all of that, why don’t you find out what else they haven’t been telling you,” Baekhyun quietly said before he jammed a button on one of the control pads.

Suddenly, with a hiss, all the metal began to rise up to the ceiling, leaving behind glass cylinders. Inside those glass confines were people strapped down on chairs, their arms restrained, their hands chained. This, Jongdae had seen many times before. This, Jongdae wished he could forget after the many times he remembered the same tired expressions, the same dulled fear that had transformed into surrender and loss.

But this… _this_ Jongdae had never seen before.

He was speechless as his gaze moved from the restraints that held the bodies in place to the top of the people’s heads. All of them, every single one of them bore the same cut, suffered the same damage. Jongdae couldn’t even begin to register what to feel, what to say, how to even describe what he saw and only felt Sehun tighten his grip on his arm.

“Tell them,” Baekhyun said, his voice calm for once as he slowly pointed at the nearest person imprisoned in the glass confines, “what this is.”

Yixing said nothing, nervously glancing at Jongdae to see how he would react as if the most important thing still was maintaining happiness even now.

But Jongdae could just only stand there and breathe as he looked at their heads.

Their heads, sawed open.

Their heads, half removed to reveal their brain.

Their heads, with so many needles and wires and strings and things impaled in and stuck to their brain.

And their eyes, oh their half lidded eyes…blinking to show they were alive, dripping tears onto their cheeks to show their pain.

“Tell them,” Baekhyun bellowed, the volume of his voice shaking and contorting his expression, “Tell them what you’re doing to them, what you’ve done to _him_.”

Yixing could only look at Jongdae with his mouth dropped open, as if he looked hard enough Jongdae would forget, that Jongdae would still be happy. But Jongdae had been not happy for so long that it didn’t matter…Such things should not have surprised him at this point. Such things should not have caused tears to arise in his eyes at this point.

And such a thing should not have made him question Baekhyun in this moment.

But it was the only thing he could do to avoid talking about this, to pretend that it was all right, that things were okay. This was just fake.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, “Tell me they’re lying about you doing something terrible to your first pair.”

“I…” Baekhyun said, faltering for a moment before the fire reemerged on his face, the flames kindled and burning in his heart. His tongue dripped flames and ashes as he spat his next words out.

“Yes,” Baekhyun said, “I killed my pair.”

At this, Jongdae could only let out a sharp inhale, not able to say anything else.

Baekhyun slowly nodded as he walked around one of the glass cylinders. He slapped a hand on one of them and dragged it across the surface, looking at everyone, sparing no one from his gaze.

“It’s really something,” Baekhyun said in a lighter tone, seemingly changing the topic, “This room. This operation. This. Happiness.”

“We are meant to be happy. It is the only good emotion,” Yixing cut in before Baekhyun silenced him with a snarl.

“Fuck you and your happiness,” Baekhyun said so clearly and cruelly, taking away his hand from the glass to point at Yixing, “You think you’re helping everyone by force-feeding pills down their throat that will make them forget everything sad, to make them nothing but happy. But where did you get the pills from, hm? What are they made of? What do you do with the extras because I _know_ there are extras.”

“He’s lying,” Yixing said, taking a step backwards, fumbling with a gun he hastily pulled out. Baekhyun was unfazed, taking a step forwards as he approached Yixing.

“Tell them the truth,” Baekhyun said.

Yixing remained silent.

“Tell them the _truth_ ,” Baekhyun suddenly yelled, his voice ascending in a loud crescendo and ending on a harsh cadence. His words echoed in the room, only silence sounding afterwards.

“Fine,” Baekhyun said, lowering his hand, “ _Fine_. Fine! I’ll tell them because if you admit to everything, then you wouldn’t be very happy wouldn’t you? Pathetic.”

“My dears,” Baekhyun said in a sweeter tone as he turned back to Jongdae and Sehun. He folded his hands behind his back and spoke. “Every single person has to be happy in this society, right? Every day we take those pills to be happy, right? But they never tell you where the pills come from. What they’re made out of. Why don’t you tell them yourself, Yixing? You still have a chance to speak.”

Yixing only shook his head and gripped the gun tighter. His hands shook.

“God,” Baekhyun said, rolling his eyes, “I have to do everything by myself don’t I.”

He took a deep breath and continued talking.

“When people become useless, when they know too much, or when they are beyond rehabilitation or help,” Baekhyun said, “they’re sent down here before even reaching clearance. This is donation. They have half of their skulls sawed off, their brains exposed, and billions of needles jammed in their head. They’re alive, but just. They’re breathing, but just. They’re in pain, so much pain. They have their dopamine, their serotonin drained out of them forever and ever to make the pills that we all pop every day to be happy, among other things. And when their bodies cannot keep up and they finally die, that’s it. The cycle continues. Someone else takes their place, someone else gets their head hacked to bits, and none of us know anything because we’re supposed to be happy, because we’re supposed to be taking these fucking pills without even asking where they came from.”

“I gave these to people,” Jongdae said, feeling his heart stop, “We took these.”

“So when I went looking for my pair after he was taken because I knew too much,” Baekhyun continued, “Guess where I found him. Here, of all places. Here! Don’t you know how jealous I was when you found Sehun all whole, all complete with not even a scratch to his face?”

He began to breathe rapidly now, pulling at his hair for a moment.

“My pair…I found him here with his brain exposed, and you want to know the first thing he said after I broke the glass that separated him from me, after the only thing I could do was take his hand and hold it, after I told him it would be alright, that he would be fine, that I would get him out?” Baekhyun said, his voice dropping slowly.

“Stop it! Enough! You’re corrupting them. They can’t be rehabilitated anymore. You’ve doomed them with this knowledge that nothing can erase, that no one can forget,” Yixing yelled at last.

“ _Kill me_ ,” Baekhyun screamed, gesticulating violently. A teardrop spilled onto Jongdae’s cheek and rained down onto the floor. He felt for Sehun’s hand and felt the eyes of everyone trapped in those glass cylinders upon him, upon everything watching. Always watching. Always dying.

“Kill me,” Baekhyun repeated, beating his chest with a fist, “That’s what he said to me. He was in so much pain, barely breathing, barely holding on. I was right there, prepared to take him home, but he told me to take his life instead.”

Baekhyun stopped to take a breath. His breathing sounded more like heaving, his words sounded more rain than fire, and suddenly he spoke in almost a whisper.

“So I did. I held his head in my hands against my chest, told him I loved him for the last time, told him everything would be all right because I was here for him, and then I stabbed his open, raw brain and drove the knife deep enough until I knew I had to walk out of this place alone because there was no one left to walk with. Did you know he looked at me and smiled as he took his last breath?” Baekhyun said, roughly wiping tears from his cheek with the sleeve of his shirt.

There wasn’t anything anyone could say to lighten the mood, to pretend as if things were okay. So Jongdae said nothing, simply pulled Baekhyun into his arms, cradled his head into the crook of his shoulder, and rubbed his shaking shoulders. Oh, Baekhyun. Someone who deserved more but received nothing from this society. Someone who wanted love but killed it because he felt it too much. Someone who had Jongdae and Sehun now even if he thought he had no one.

“Listen,” Yixing said, holding out an arm. He looked grieved, like someone who hadn’t taken his pill of the day even though Jongdae knew that was impossible because he was Yixing. Manager. Happy. “I am truly sorry for what happened to your pair. I really am.”

Baekhyun lifted his head from Jongdae’s shoulders and laughed.

“You? Sorry? After what you and your—” Baekhyun started to say again, straining against Jongdae’s arms as he vehemently spoke.

“You need to calmly come with me,” Yixing cut him off, “If you willingly go, then that will be favorable for you. It will seem like you want to be happy so you won’t need extensive therapy.”

“Extensive therapy?” Jongdae said at last, “Like what you did to Sehun? Like what you did to Baekhyun’s first pair?”

“No, I—” Yixing started to say, “You just have to trust and come with me…It’s for your own good. There are worse things that’ll—”

Soon a smooth voice sounded, and a figure entered from a rear door.

“Thank you for your attempt to distract them, but we’ll take it from here. Extensive therapy will be needed for all of them…that is…if we find that they can truly be saved,” a voice said.

“Wait,” Yixing said, holding out a hand as the figure behind the voice approached them closer. “They were going to give themselves up, there’s no need for—”

“Oh, I think we both know that is not right,” someone said, the person finally close enough to see.

The woman.

Today she wore a sleeveless white dress with a billowing, wispy skirt. Not a hair was out of place in the bun she wore, not a stain was on her clothes, and she presented her smile perfectly. From behind her, enforcers entered the room and immediately surrounded them.

“There’s no point in resisting,” she said, “You’ve done enough, and you’re outnumbered.

Baekhyun tensed immediately, but the enforcers pointed their guns at all three of them, so he had no choice but to give up, to allow himself to be swept up with a curse under his breath. Jongdae felt hands grab him again, and this was all too familiar. He struggled once but was grabbed tighter and pushed him along harder.

He looked back to make sure Baekhyun and Sehun had not been too harmed. Sehun looked at him with wide eyes, as if he was saying _this again?_ Baekhyun’s eyes flashed with fire, and Jongdae could tell he was waiting for the right moment before he would pull out one of his many knives. But none of them were harmed for now at least, so Jongdae turned back around and.

Screamed.

Screamed when he saw that familiar body in the glass cage he just passed.

Screamed when he saw that familiar head, all the messy brown hair gone, replaced with an open skull, an open brain with needles stuck in it.

Screamed when he saw Chanyeol and realized where he had been sent after Jongdae sent him away.

“I told you,” Yixing said as he walked beside him, sticking his head forwards so he could look at Jongdae past the enforcers that crowded him, “he was better off with you.”

Jongdae was too stunned to speak, and suddenly his legs wouldn’t work, wouldn’t do anything, so the enforcers just continued dragging his limp body while Sehun struggled against his own captors to get to him, to reach him.

“Hey, _fucker_ ,” Baekhyun called out, “if you didn’t give him to Jongdae in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. Don’t blame him for something you did.”

“Don’t listen to them, Yixing,” the woman said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “They’re only trying to wind you up...make you more susceptible to unhappiness.”

Jongdae didn’t know how many doors they walked through or which direction they were even going because he was so frozen, so in shock of what he had seen. He remembered Chanyeol and how hard he tried to make him happy, all those breakfasts he tried to cook, all those times he…he just was. But he couldn’t do anything to save Chanyeol now, and even now, Chanyeol was not his priority.

The enforcers pushed them inside a room, threw them onto three chairs, and Jongdae could only stare at the floor while the rest of the enforcers entered the room and stood behind them. The woman sat in the chair facing them and folded her hands on the desk. This felt too familiar, and Jongdae didn’t want it to end the same way it did the first time. But when she talked, he knew he had no chance.

“I change my mind. Donation is where they’ll head now before clearance,” the woman said, instructing an enforcer in front of her. Yixing stood next to her, looking increasingly alarmed as she spoke.

“Qian, they’re—” he tried to cut in before she cut him off. So that was her name.

“It is nice of you to care for them,” Qian said, “but we have no time or energy for rehabilitation. We already tried that with one of them. Look how that ended. And, it took the other one two weeks of persistent memory wipes until he forgot his pair and we could transfer him back. I did that as a favor, and it didn’t work. No more.”

Him?

“Me?” Jongdae said. It took two weeks?

“I still don’t know what you did to me,” he admitted.

“We tried to tell you that Sehun was dead, that he forgot about you, but you always resisted,” Yixing said, shaking his head, “It took almost an overdose of pills for you to finally forget and regulate yourself again.”

“That still didn’t work in the end. Jongdae still remembered me, and we’re still here. Together,” Sehun proudly said, sitting up straighter as he talked, “You underestimated who lives in this society.”

“You underestimated love, you sick fucks,” Baekhyun taunted, earning him a shove from the enforcers.

Qian stared at them, her lips curling up in amusement. Her fingers were folded so hard against each other Jongdae was sure her nails dug into her skin.

“We know this one will kill us if he gets the chance, so no risks with him. Speed up his donation process. We’ll see how long he lasts before the end,” she said, looking at Baekhyun.

This couldn’t be it.

The end.

Jongdae always imagined he’d at least catch a glimpse of a warm sky, feel rain splattering on his face before he had to go.

But this?

This couldn’t be it.

“Why?” Jongdae said, trying anything as he looked at Yixing, begging him, just _begging_ him for some time at least, “If your purpose is to make everyone happy, then why not let us be? You’re only spreading pain by taking people away from their families and doing all…all of this. We’re not happy the way you want, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t in our own way.”

Yixing looked weary as he listened to Jongdae, but Qian spoke before he could answer.

“That may be Yixing’s main goal, but that’s not mine,” she said, putting her hand on Yixing’s shoulder and squeezing it, “I lead lower management after all.”

“Then what’s yours?” Jongdae asked.

“Another question,” Qian said, “you still haven’t learned. That won’t matter in the end.”

“What is your goal?” Jongdae asked.

“The people who cannot be fixed become the source of dopamine that we use to make the pills until they finally die. That’s how we stay happy. No one can say happiness is solitary,” Qian said.

“We _know_ that,” Baekhyun forcefully said, “You think you’ve covered everything, but you’re wrong. We’re not the only ones who know.”

“I didn’t finish,” the woman said before reciting something so calmly as if she had read straight from a book, “the dopamine that we extract is also used outside of this project, shipped straight to people far from here.”

There was more out there than just this?

“Project?” Baekhyun said, “you’re telling me this gets worse?

“This city is a government issue project to see what would happen if only happiness existed, if it is possible to live with only happiness because that would be the ideal. And we did. Look at us! No wars, no crime, no arguments. Everything is perfect,” the woman said.

“That’s because all of that is hidden,” Baekhyun said, “You don’t show the real crimes that happen here. There’s murder, there’s pain, there’s crimes that I can’t even speak of that you committed, that you caused. You did this.”

He was spitting fire now, dripping flames from his words, but Qian didn’t seem bothered.

“Take them away,” she sighed as she stood up. “There’s nothing more that can be done.”

“Wait!” Yixing said, “Let me talk to them first alone.”

Qian paused, reaching out to touch Yixing’s chin and tilted her head, “Five minutes for you.”

The skirt of her white dress billowed as she left the room, the enforcers following her until no one was left except Yixing.

Even though he had only five minutes, Yixing didn’t speak for a good thirty seconds, just shaking his head as he slowly paced back and forth across the room.

“You should’ve listened to me, Jongdae,” Yixing said, “You should’ve accepted Chanyeol, let Sehun be forgotten, and continued to live. Sehun would’ve been released eventually, so he wouldn’t have had to face donation. You wouldn’t have to face donation either.”

“But I didn’t,” Jongdae said, relaxing since it was only Yixing here, “I couldn’t just continue to forget.”

“Look where you sit now,” Yixing said, “Right next to 338 as well, I…This is really something. I would have never thought you would’ve done such a thing.”

“I have a name?” Baekhyun said.

Yixing glanced at Baekhyun before continuing.

“You’re our top distributor,” Yixing continued, “that’s why I saved you the first time…made a phone call and a request that I shouldn’t have.”

“Wait,” Jongdae said, remembering at last how he was spared, “You were the one that called her?”

“Maybe I should’ve let them rehabilitate you extensively, too,” Yixing said, finally stopping to lean on the desk, “You could always distribute again after you were fixed. Maybe then you wouldn’t have met 338. Maybe then you would’ve forgotten Sehun properly. Maybe then you wouldn’t be facing clearance later.”

Clearance.

The word silenced everything, everyone. Jongdae didn’t want to see Sehun and Baekhyun lying there on a metal table with stitched up gashes in their heads and looked up at Yixing in alarm, unable to mask the fear he felt.

“Yixing,” Jongdae said, trying to distract him or at least do _something_ , “Is it hard reminding yourself every day what you have to do since you take the pill every day?”

“My pill is different,” Yixing said, “slightly different. It has the same effects, but I still remember everything so I can perform my job to the best of my ability.”

“Then how do you stay happy?” Jongdae asked, “How can you do it knowing what happens down here?”

Yixing smiled in response, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I work upstairs, remember? I don’t have to see this…these people every day,” Yixing said.

“No, but that woman does. Qian. She must have no heart,” Baekhyun said.

“She’s my pair,” Yixing said. He looked away.

“Sorry for your loss,” Baekhyun evenly said.

“Once she did make me the happiest,” Yixing said “the both of us wanted to keep this project good, but she became too obsessed. Happiness has to be extreme for it to be right to her. You are the happiest, or you’re not.”

“So now you’re not happy even if you take the pills,” Jongdae said.

“Of course I’m happy,” Yixing said, “I am. I really am. Do I not say the sky’s beautiful every day?”

“Yixing,” Jongdae gently said, “You just asked a question.”

Yixing’s face almost crumpled, but he held up his expression by pressing his lips together and walking away.

“Luckily,” Yixing said, placing one hand on the doorknob and rubbing his face with his other, “I don’t believe in clearance...so I’ll do what I can to negotiate you to just rehabilitation.”

Jongdae called out his name, but Yixing was already gone.

As soon as the enforcers entered the room once again, Jongdae expected to be strapped to a chair, screaming as one of them held a saw to his forehead and cut through his skull. But that never came. All they had been doing was walking and more walking, entering rooms and leaving them until finally, they were placed in a room with no windows and no doorway out.

Another familiar setting.

Jongdae and Sehun slumped to the floor, hands already reaching for each other.

Baekhyun paced around the room, pressing his hands on the walls before giving up and sitting down on the other side. There was no point. There was no exit.

“Baekhyun,” Sehun suddenly called out, his voice echoing in the room, “Why won’t you sit with us?”

“You’ll be safer if I’m over here,” Baekhyun said, shifting in his spot on the floor far from them, “They consider me more of a threat, so if they do something, I’ll fight back and divert the attention to myself.”

“We’ve all done things they don’t like,” Jongdae said.

“We’ll get out of here all together. Don’t be alone,” Sehun said, stretching his other hand out to gesture for Baekhyun to come.

Baekhyun stared for a moment before he pressed his hands on the floor to push him upwards. He slowly walked towards them, remaining standing for another moment more before finally settling down next to Sehun and taking his hand.

“So, Sehun,” Baekhyun said as if it was any other day and they were together in any other place than this, “What did you do before all this? Jongdae’s one of those distributors, but if you got him in this mess I suppose you couldn’t have been connected to upper management.”

“I was a teacher,” Sehun said, “and I kept remembering missing desks and missing students. That’s why I’m here. What did you do?”

Jongdae stayed silent, staring at his watch. He watched the minute hand slowly tick, counting the seconds in his head.

“I was a librarian,” Baekhyun said, earning a gasp from Sehun. He stopped speaking to cover his smile with a hand. Perhaps one day when this was over he could open his own library somewhere far away. When this was all done, Jongdae would like to buy him books to fill a whole building with.

“One of my students,” Sehun excitedly said, “wanted to be a librarian, but I had to tell her those didn’t exist anymore. Were you one of the last?”

“I am _the_ last,” Baekhyun said with a big smile.

Jongdae smiled as he watched Sehun clutch Baekhyun’s arm and ask him what were his favorite books, what other books were there that were not management approved, what happened to all the books after the library closed. The watch on his hand had only sped past three minutes, but this felt long enough. If this was what they were condemned to do, live in a box for the rest of their lives like this, then it wasn’t so bad.

But Jongdae still wanted more.

If there was more outside of all of this, if there was even a chance they could leave and see what a normal society would be like, then he wanted it. All of it.

“What’s our plan?” Jongdae said, interrupting Sehun’s and Baekhyun’s conversation, “Where do we go from here?”

The two of them fell silent for a moment, remembering that this was their reality. This was where they were right now…not a place where libraries existed and books could be accessed so easily.

“We still have to think abut Yeri,” Sehun said in a small voice, “She has to make it out of here, too. We’ve failed her so many times, and I…”

“Maybe we can negotiate her release first then,” Baekhyun said, his hand hovering over Sehun’s shoulder, “Since her dying in a fire would not be pleasant.”

“She has to be alive, right?” Sehun said, “She has to be.”

Baekhyun finally touched Sehun’s shoulder, squeezing it to comfort him.

“I can pretend to have some information that they’ll want in return for Yeri and us,” Jongdae said, thinking of all the names, the lists of names he would give up.

“If that doesn’t work, I have a plan,” Baekhyun said.

“What is it?” Sehun asked.

“Don’t worry about it. That’s our last resort,” Baekhyun said.

They waited in silence together for a time Jongdae didn’t want to name. It felt like hours, but only thirty minutes had passed if he were to really check his watch. When the door finally opened, spilling more light into the room, Jongdae let everyone enter before he spoke.

“I’ll give you names of people who have refused the pill covertly in exchange for Yeri’s and our release,” Jongdae said clearly.

Qian placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head.

“That can’t be right,” she said, “that many people couldn’t have been skipping their pills.”

“If I’ve been trapped here,” Jongdae said, “then you know all those people are missing their pills. And have been more than once.”

“By their own choice,” Jongdae hastily added to make the situation seem direr.

“That’s not good,” Yixing said, looking panicked, “If there’s a breach in protocol, then we should act upon it.”

“We have no way of confirming the truth right now,” Qian said.

“Then we’ll throw them into rehabilitation until we can confirm the validity,” Yixing said, “That seems fair.”

Qian looked at them for a while, observing Jongdae’s countenance before dragging her gaze over Baekhyun and Sehun. Jongdae didn’t know what she was looking for, but he made his expression as happy as possible.

An enforcer stepped up to her and whispered something in her ear.

“Oh,” she said before her lips pulled upwards, “ _Oh_. I guess that can’t be helped. Bring Yeri to us then.”

Sehun sighed in relief beside them. So she was still alive at least.

“Thank you,” Jongdae said, not willing to believe their luck. Yixing sighed before moving to the back of the room near the door, leaning against the blank wall while he kept his head down and his hands jammed into his pockets.

Jongdae sat in silence as they waited for Yeri to be brought here, but his mood brightened considerably. For a moment he even dared to hope, to believe they would be let go. In the meantime, for all she demanded their transfer to donation and clearance, Qian sat calmly, listening to reports enforcers whispered in her ear before she gave them orders in return.

“Extend 612’s rehabilitation, but if his treatment does not go as planned and is unsuccessful again, send him to donation,” she said to one enforcer.

“It seems 806’s body is deteriorating at a faster rate. Send him to clearance immediately,” she said to another without even a blink of an eye.

“The requested patient is here,” an enforcer announced at last.

Sehun perked up, sitting straighter as he craned his neck, looking around the room even though Yeri had not been brought in yet.

“Send her in,” Qian said before resuming her conversation with another enforcer.

The enforcers pushed in a stretcher, one that Jongdae had seen many times before. After all, he had spent too many times trying to wheel her out of the building with it. From where she laid, Jongdae could see her hand limply dangling off of the side and her hair poking through the holes of the upper metal railing. Whatever medicine they had drugged her with was potent because she did not stir even once even as Sehun shouted her name from where he sat.

“Go on,” Qian said with a smile, gesturing towards Yeri, “that’s who you wanted after all.”

The enforcers standing in front of them parted, and Sehun eagerly stood up before rushing towards her. Jongdae took his time getting up, helping Baekhyun to his feet before they followed. This was fine. Even if they were sent to rehabilitation, that was something they could all survive. There were still ways to escape as long as they weren’t sent to donation or clearance. They would still be alive, and things—

But a sudden scream made Jongdae stop in his tracks and his heart leap to his throat.

A scream that made Jongdae realize that no thing could ever be good down here.

A scream that made Jongdae feel foolish that he could think for even a second that they would be listened to, that things would go their way if they just asked.

Because Sehun’s scream shattered that fantasy, that easygoing, temporary calmness, and Jongdae knew what had happened before he even reached the stretcher.

Sehun had scrambled backwards, his shoulders shaking, hands flying to his mouth as he screamed again. Jongdae wordlessly caught him in his arms, and Sehun lowered his head, bent his body downwards so he could fit into the crook of Jongdae’s neck. Beside them, Baekhyun, too, had stood, frozen as he looked. Jongdae finally dragged his gaze up the stretcher, and when he looked at Yeri fully, he knew. Oh, he knew.

There was Yeri, looking asleep with her eyes closed, and if Jongdae squinted, he could pretend like she was taking a nap, just a simple nap. But her chest never rose up and down like any normal person’s chest to indicate she was breathing, and Jongdae was sure if he reached out to touch her skin, it would be cold.

And across her forehead was a deep, horizontal gash that a line of silver staples just barely held together.

“You’re too late,” Qian announced, giving them her full attention now, “She was cleared yesterday.”

Baekhyun turned his back to Qian so she would not see what he whispered to Jongdae.

“Distract her. I’m working on my plan now,” Baekhyun said.

Jongdae nodded slightly and continued holding Sehun as he spoke.

“Why,” he said, asking for Sehun, for himself, for Yeri, for Yeri’s mother. He felt Sehun sob into his shirt, clutching at his skin, his clothes, anything he could reach. Sehun’s loss was his loss, his pain his pain, and it could never again be said that love made anyone happy all the time.

“There could have been a better solution than clearance,” Yixing told Qian, shaking his head as he looked at Yeri’s body. He didn’t bother to hide the trouble that clouded his expression, but it didn’t matter. It was too late for him to care now.

“We tried to rehabilitate her before this,” Qian said, “it was interrupted multiple times by your attempts to take her out, and perhaps it disrupted the whole process all together. We had no choice but to send her to donation.”

“But you had a choice to send her to clearance,” Jongdae said. From the corner of his eye, he could see Baekhyun lurking in the background, slowly weaving in between enforcers. He spoke louder to throw any attention off of him. “Just because she wasn’t happy on your terms did not mean she was not happy at all.”

“But she wasn’t,” Qian said, “you don’t know how many times she cried during rehabilitation for reasons other than happiness. That is unacceptable. Someone like her needed the pills she refused to take.”

“What about her friends. Kim Doyeon and Choi Yoojung,” Jongdae said, watching Baekhyun slip behind an enforcer without drawing attention to himself. “Why did you take them? Why did you take all of them?”

“They did not think,” Qian said, “Doyeon, Yoojung, and Yeri dared each other to last a day without a pill to see what would happen. They thought that they would avoid suspicion if they tried it on separate days, but in the end we found out. We always do. The distributors that were in charge of them were reprimanded heavily.”

“They’re only teenagers,” Jongdae said, feeling his heart continue to break as Sehun continued to press his face into his neck, trying but failing to suppress his sobs. The flames in his chest flickered, but were not extinguished by this loss.

“We have their best interests at heart,” Qian said, “but they have to want to be fixed and to want to be happy. If they do not comply with rehabilitation, then there’s nothing more we can do. At least their donation will help countless others.”

“Did you even have any intention of letting us go?” Jongdae asked. It was a simple question, one that he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer to.

“No,” Qian said, causing Yixing to turn to her in surprise before she stopped him with a raised hand, “You are a risk to the outside world, a terrible patient, and one of the unhappiest people I have ever seen in my entire time running this facility.”

Jongdae watched Baekhyun creep behind an enforcer, moving slowly enough to not arouse their suspicion, but enough to make progress towards whatever he planned. It was funny how they forgot to look at him, to restrain him. Didn’t they know what he was capable of?

“So you’re saying we’ll never leave,” Jongdae said, trying to buy them time.

“That is correct. You’ll never leave,” Qian said, snapping her fingers. An enforcer suddenly brought what looked like a steel saw towards her and stopped by her side, waiting for further instructions.

“You will go first to donation,” Qian said, pointing at Jongdae, “This will only hurt a bit.”

It was all too familiar but not.

Just like last time, Jongdae felt arms tear Sehun away from him, screams tear out of his throat as he heard the saw turn on, and tears threaten to appear in his eyes. In the crowd of enforcers surrounding him, Jongdae lost sight of Sehun, but he had no time to shout his name because enforcers were already grabbing his body, his arms to secure him. Jongdae watched in horror as the spinning blade whirred towards his head. He couldn’t even see the blade because it was moving so fast it just looked like a blur.

Jongdae breathed rapidly, fighting to keep his panic down. Two of the enforcers in front of him grabbed Jongdae’s legs so he wouldn’t kick, and as they bent down, Jongdae looked out across the room and choked out a sigh of relief. Baekhyun had caught his gaze and smiled in reassurance.

“Okay!” Baekhyun shouted above the roar of the saw’s motor, “My plan now.”

It all happened so fast.

Jongdae didn’t know how Baekhyun could move so quickly, act so quickly, but in the moments it took for the enforcers to react to Baekhyun’s voice, he had already stabbed an enforcer in the thigh with one of his knives, grabbed the gun out of his hand while he was busy groaning in pain, and pressed it to Qian’s head.

“Stop!” Yixing shouted, “Let her go.”

“Oh, you’re quite something,” Qian said, not bothered by Baekhyun. She snapped her fingers, causing the enforcers to aim their guns at Sehun. The enforcer holding the saw quickly moved the blade towards Jongdae’s neck and looked back for further instruction. Jongdae moved his head upwards to avoid the blade. He didn’t know what Baekhyun’s plan was, but he trusted him to save them before he’d feel what a high-speed cut to the neck felt like.

Yixing raised his hands and took a step closer to Baekhyun, his eyes wild and his hands trembling.

“You’re the one that’s afraid of me,” Baekhyun said, only pressing it harder against the side of Qian’s head as he addressed Yixing, “because I don’t take your pills. Because I found out what you did. Because I killed my pair. If you don’t let all of us go, I’ll kill yours, too.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Qian said so calmly no one would have ever believed the gun Baekhyun held to her head was real. She smoothed down the skirts of her dress, now splattered with blood, and raised her voice. “He’s the priority. Put him down now. There’s no time for donation.”

“No!” Yixing said, “Drop your guns. It’s too dangerous for that.”

For a tense moment, the enforcers froze, not sure which of the two commands to follow. But Yixing opened his mouth and repeated his order so forcefully, so desperately that they pointed their guns to the ground and released Jongdae and Sehun from their grasps.

Jongdae breathed and almost sank to the floor in relief as the saw moved away from his neck, but Sehun ran forwards and caught him in time before he could touch the ground.

“They can’t have you, too,” Sehun said, holding Jongdae up with steady arms. He was done crying now, but his eyes were still red-rimmed and his expression still full of grief.

“Get behind me,” Baekhyun shouted, tilting his head to signal the two of them to come closer. It would’ve been an amusing sight to see the two of them fit behind Baekhyun’s small body if they weren’t trying to not die in the moment. Sehun, who was much taller than both of them, somehow managed to compress himself, to bend his broad shoulders to fit behind Baekhyun’s smaller frame. Jongdae peeked out from behind Baekhyun’s shoulders and knew in that moment they would not die in this room.

“We let you go,” Yixing said, speaking slowly as he kept his hands in the air, “Now please let her go.”

“Yixing,” Qian said, “I _told_ you to shoot them. I am not the priority.”

“But you are mine,” Yixing said, standing tall with his hands out of his pockets and clenched by his sides, “Now let me _handle_ this.”

“We need a guarantee that we won’t be blown to bits when we let her go,” Baekhyun said, wrapping his arm around Qian’s upper torso for better leverage, “So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be taking her until we have a safe passage out.”

“Please don’t hurt her,” Yixing pleaded, motioning for the enforcers to get out of their way.

The four of them slowly walked out of the room, inching backwards cautiously even though no guns were pointed at them. Qian struggled against Baekhyun, trying to pull his arm away from her, but Baekhyun was stronger and held on tighter.

From behind, Sehun slowly opened the door and held it for them to pass through, letting it shut as he retook his place behind Baekhyun and Jongdae. There was a long hallway behind them that seemed to stretch out forever, and Jongdae tapped Baekhyun to pick up the pace just in case. Anything could happen in the time it took for them to walk to the end.

Within seconds, the door opened again, and Yixing appeared, raising his hands to show he meant no harm as he slowly followed them. But the enforcers that shadowed him still held their guns in their arms.

Shoot them,” Qian screamed, struggling against Baekhyun’s grasp, “They must be cleared _now_.”

“No,” Yixing refused, “You’re still in the way.”

“I _said_ ,” Qian screamed again, “Shoot them.”

Jongdae looked backwards, finding that another hallway opened up left about ten feet away.

“Think we can make it?” Jongdae asked, gesturing to their exit.

“If she shuts up,” Baekhyun said, pressing the gun harder against Qian’s head.

“You take orders from me, not him,” Qian yelled at the enforcers who suddenly raised their guns once again and aimed at them.

“See?” Baekhyun sighed. They were closer now, but not close enough to be completely safe.

“So _shoot_ ,” Qian screamed, almost flailing against Baekhyun. Yixing shouted his denial of the order, but it was too late.

The enforcers began shooting, and Baekhyun pushed Qian forwards as they dove downwards and slid into the connecting hallway, gunfire still blaring in the distance.

“Baekhyun,” Sehun said, crouching down next to him, “You’re _bleeding_.”

Jongdae threw himself down at Baekhyun’s side, and oh there was so much blood everywhere…He lifted Baekhyun’s sleeves, his shirt up to see where the blood could be coming from, but he could not figure it out. Sehun didn’t know where to apply pressure, so he pressed down on Baekhyun’s shoulder for a few moments before moving to his sides in panic. Baekhyun was supposed to do what he came to do…burn the building down and then escape with them…There were orange skies to see, rain to feel, songs to sing all together. Baekhyun couldn’t just g—

“No, it’s not me…don’t worry,” Baekhyun said, wiping at his cheek and smearing some of the splattered blood onto his skin, “It’s Qian’s blood.”

Jongdae stumbled back, groaning in relief. Sehun relaxed, but still kept his hand pressed to Baekhyun.

“I’m fine, really,” Baekhyun said, patting Sehun’s hand, “Don’t you have more faith in me? I didn’t come here to die.”

But gunshots continued ringing, shouts sounded louder, so they took off.

Baekhyun and Jongdae spent some time making sure Sehun stopped when they stopped, ran when they ran because sometimes he forgot he was here and with them and not back in that room staring at Yeri’s body. Baekhyun used his pain, his loss to fuel his fists, but Sehun had a heart too big for all of that. If Baekhyun burned to destroy, Sehun burned so those he loved could stay warm.

“Go first,” Baekhyun said, panting as he pointed towards the direction of the glass elevator that would take them up and away to the upper lower level, “I’ll meet you outside of the building.”

“No?” Jongdae said, bending down as he fought to catch his breath, “We’ve been over this…we’re with you until the end. We won’t leave unless you’re there.”

He straightened up and crossed his arms, trying to look as resolute as he felt.

Baekhyun took one look at him and sighed.

“You’re so stubborn,” Baekhyun said, “Come on then.”

“Where are we going now?” Sehun said, trailing after them. He seemed smaller than he really was.

“To what happens after clearance,” Baekhyun said, leading the way past the hallways that looked the same but Jongdae was sure he had never visited before. Occasionally, they threw themselves into rooms or behind hallways when they heard the heavy boots of the enforcers thud through the hallways until finally, Baekhyun stopped in front of a metal door.

“Welcome,” he said in an even tone reminiscent of all the nurses who worked in lower management, pulling the door open, “to incineration.”

The room was blank, with the same metal storage shelves from clearance indented into the walls. Jongdae didn’t need to open them to understand what rested inside. There were also empty stretchers, empty IV bags, and a pile of discarded, bent staples cluttered in a glass bowl.

In the middle of the room on the wall furthest from them was a large metal rectangle positioned as if it was just a painting hung for display. Baekhyun pressed a few buttons on the control panel next to the metal surface that caused it to slide upwards, disappearing to reveal a black abyss.

Baekhyun peered inside and breathed in relief.

“I would’ve screamed if there was a body there,” Baekhyun said before motioning for them to step backwards as he pressed another button.

A wild fire suddenly roared to life, causing them to step further back so the heat would not hurt as much. As Jongdae stood watching the dancing flames, he understood.

“This is where they go after clearance,” Jongdae said, repeating what Baekhyun told him, “This is where they go after the end.”

“Not even a trace of them is left after they’re placed inside,” Baekhyun said. “Just ashes.”

“Baekhyun,” Sehun said in a soft voice, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light, “when you thought about burning down the building, did you ever think about the other people that would die too?”

“Sehun, you’re too kind,” Baekhyun said, turning around to pat his head, “Of course I thought about it. It’s the only thing that kept me going for the past years…Is that bad?”

“If it’s what you want, then do it,” Sehun said. “Make them feel sorry for what they’ve done.”

“Of course,” Baekhyun said before rummaging around the room.

“They drench the bodies with this fluid so they burn faster,” Baekhyun said, holding up a tank of liquid that sloshed inside. He then pulled a rod free from the metal railing of the stretcher, cut the fabric of the bed and tied it securely to the top of the rod.

“Now we have a torch,” Baekhyun said, twirling it around for a moment.

“Where did you learn how to do all of this?” Jongdae said as Baekhyun dipped the tip of the torch into the flammable substance.

“Books,” Baekhyun said, passing the torch to Sehun as he grabbed gloves from the table and put them on.

He then stuck the torch into the fire and withdrew it, a few flames stolen and burning up the fabric.

“Grab a tank each, and let’s go,” Baekhyun said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, “Let’s burn this place.”

The giddiness in Baekhyun’s voice worried Jongdae, but surely Baekhyun wouldn’t get too carried away.

They worked quickly, dumping some of the liquid in a room and backing away as Baekhyun pressed the flame to the puddle and let out a laugh as it caught on fire. The fire alarm that suddenly blared startled Jongdae, but it only spurred Baekhyun on as he urged them to follow quickly to the next room. On and on they repeated the process until smoke began to hiss out of the cracks of the closed doors that hid the inferno burning behind them.

For all Baekhyun wanted destruction, he still only had the heart to destroy empty rooms where no patients were kept. Even then, as he watched the flames for a moment, all he could do was smile and nod to himself. Jongdae didn’t know if the tears in Baekhyun’s eyes were from the sting of the smoke or something else.

Soon, enough rooms had caught on fire, enough smoke had spilled out of the doors to form dark clouds that crept across the hallways.

“Let’s go, Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, tugging on his arm. But Baekhyun was too busy trying to figure out how to open the next door so he could spread more flames inside.

“Let’s _go_ before you get hurt,” Jongdae said, prodding Baekhyun with a finger.

“Everything needs to burn, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, turning to him, the lights of his torch reflecting into his eyes as he spoke, “I’ve waited so long, and I can’t leave until everything goes. It’s the least I can do for my pair.”

“You promised me you would stay alive,” Jongdae said, “You’ve done enough. I will not leave here without you, so if you want to see your other pairs burn, too, then stay. Continue destroying everything.”

Baekhyun’s shoulders slumped, and he turned around to face Jongdae.

“So you really mean that,” Baekhyun said, still keeping one hand on the doorknob, “Even after you know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to say it,” Jongdae said, pushing Baekhyun’s shoulder. If they stayed any longer here, it would be hard to breathe. “Listen. I have two pairs. You. Sehun. It’s the three of us for life. A long life, I’d really hope.”

“Come on, Baekhyun,” Sehun said in a gentler tone. “If you stay too long in the past, you’ll be burned too. The only way to go is up. Forwards. Far from here.”

Baekhyun took a deep breath and smiled shakily.

“If the both of you are with me for life, I hope you’re prepared to hear me never shut up,” Baekhyun said, “I talk a lot, you know.”

“Really…We would’ve never guessed,” Jongdae said, almost letting out a laugh.

“I’m a good listener,” Sehun said, finally leading Baekhyun away from the door.

“The elevator is three right turns from here,” Baekhyun said as they stood, facing the hallway while the fires burned behind them.

There wasn’t anything else left to do, so they ran three right turns, passing by enforcers along the way. Most of them shouted about the fire, paying the three of them no attention as they fled.

When they finally reached the elevator, Jongdae pressed the up arrow multiple times as if that would make the elevator appear faster. They stood, waiting around with their torch and flammable liquid, thinking they were too lucky no one approached them.

And then someone did.

Yixing.

Jongdae didn’t think he would harm them, but Baekhyun held out his torch defensively.

“So you’re doing this now,” Yixing said, barely heard over the smoke alarm.

“Shouldn’t you be crying over your pair or something,” Baekhyun said.

“She’s tougher than you know,” Yixing said, “She’ll be fine, no thanks to you. And happy people do not cry about such matters.”

Jongdae didn’t believe him, but there was no point in arguing now.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Jongdae asked when Yixing did nothing more than stand and talk. The elevator had to be here soon.

“I can’t stop you anyways,” Yixing shrugged, “There’s no point. I’m just here because Qian told me to pursue you, and I can’t say no to her.”

“Yeah we got the feeling,” Baekhyun said.

The elevator dinged and the glass doors slid open.

“So this is it,” Jongdae said as they stepped in. Yixing didn’t get in with them nor did he stop them.

“Hopefully,” Yixing smiled. “Don’t hurt yourself with that thing. Fire outside of these walls is more dangerous than it is inside here.”

No one said anything in return, letting the doors slide close. Yixing’s smile was the last thing they saw before the elevator took them higher and higher.

After it took them to the upper level of the medical center, Baekhyun hopped out, still holding the torch in one hand.

“Keep that door open,” Baekhyun said as he ran off, “I’ll be back.”

Jongdae and Sehun complied, standing on the edges of the door, one foot on the glass floor, one foot on the tiled floor of the medical center. While waiting for Baekhyun, Jongdae looked into the hallway ahead. Perhaps it was time for everyone to head home already, as it was completely empty, devoid of any nurses or doctors.

Baekhyun soon returned holding a hammer in one hand and the torch still in his other.

“Make sure I don’t fall,” Baekhyun said as he motioned Jongdae and Sehun to step off of the glass.

Sehun stood behind, stretching his arms to press the doors of the elevator open while Jongdae grabbed Baekhyun’s waist just in case.

Baekhyun then began hitting the glass floor with the hammer, smashing it again and again until the floor completely shattered, raining glass onto the lower level. He then opened the tanks of liquid with one hand, kicked whatever remained into the hole, and then dropped the torch downwards.

They watched for a moment as a new abyss of hellfire and flames lit up what used to be white lights.

Baekhyun stared a moment longer before he nodded and lead the way towards the final glass elevator that would take them upwards. Jongdae couldn’t wait until the glass doors swung open, unwilling to think of what would happen if the floor crumpled beneath their feet.

It was night when they first ran out of the building, and for a second, it hadn’t felt like they escaped. The street lights in the distance looked so far away that Jongdae had to fumble in the dark, wading through the night until he could feel Baekhyun’s and Sehun’s bodies.

“Where now?” Jongdae said.

Before anyone could respond, the night was smothered out as morning rose, the darkness disappearing just as quickly as the blue sky appeared to replace it.

Jongdae blinked, staring at the sky in front of them. At this hour of the day, no cars were parked in the upper management division, and none of his co-workers were present. Everything was the same. No enforcers swarmed the place to take them back. The sky was still blue. There was no sunrise. No rain. No change.

The three of them silently took a moment to breathe before they ran. It really was all they could do now. Baekhyun had burned down everything in lower management, but the upper management building still stood. The windows were still polished, still spotless, and Jongdae didn’t bother looking back again.

Normally it would have taken Jongdae not that long to drive from home to work and back again, but it took them much longer to make it back to the main part of the city. By the time they reached town square, some people had already started setting up their stalls and booths for the day.

“What’s our plan?” Jongdae asked, turning around hoping anyone would have anything.

“Grab some food and head to the tunnels,” Baekhyun said, immediately approaching a vendor.

Jongdae easily distracted the vendors with some conversation while Baekhyun and Sehun took what they needed. Sehun was more hesitant to do so, but after he watched Baekhyun a couple of times, he copied him easily. With fuller pockets, the three of them then acted like everything was fine as they started walking towards the tunnels.

“Wow,” Baekhyun said, stopping in his tracks as they saw enforcers in front of them. Two kicked at the tunnel entry, examining it closely while others stood around, appearing as if they were waiting for something.

“Wow,” Baekhyun said as he accidentally caught the gaze of one of the enforcers who suddenly raised his gun and loudly grabbed the other enforcers’ attention.

“ _Wow_ ,” Baekhyun said again, watching for a second as the enforcers ran towards them, yelling at them to stay in place so they could be taken in. Or taken down.

Baekhyun pushed Jongdae and Sehun forwards as they ran again. Some food fell out of their pockets, but they didn’t stop to pick anything up. Through the city they ran, dodging past smiling people who were already awake for the day. Jongdae didn’t know how long they could continue running, and they needed to find somewhere to hide before one of them couldn’t go on any further or before they caught the attention of any other enforcer.

Jongdae scanned the street they ran through. Some stores were empty, the lights turned off to signal that the workers had not arrived yet. Others were open, but crowded with workers and customers. At the end of the street, luckily, there was an empty store with the lights on.

“Here,” Jongdae said, pointing at the store.

The front door was locked, but that was no problem for Baekhyun who shattered the glass door with a kick.

The three of them stumbled to the floor, trying to catch their breath from all that running. Jongdae looked around, realizing they had taken refuge in an empty jewelry store. There were neat rows of bracelets in one display case, necklaces in another, and rings in the case furthest from the door.

“Oh!” Sehun suddenly said, abruptly standing as he quickly patted his pockets, “How could I forget?”

After his fingers touched what he had been looking for, he breathed a sigh in relief.

“They let me keep our rings,” Sehun timidly said, pulling out their wedding rings and showing it to Jongdae, “I refused to give them up even when they showed me pictures of you and that other man…the pair they tried to give you.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, scrambling to stand up quickly.

“I think…the only thing that kept me alive, that kept me fighting to keep my mind was this,” Sehun said, slipping on his own ring, “I swore I wouldn’t rest until you’d get it back.”

“And here you are now,” Sehun said, smiling as he held out the ring for Jongdae, “with me. Together again.”

Jongdae stared at the ring in the palm of Sehun’s hand and smiled as he reached out to touch Sehun’s cheek.

“It’s for forever, this kind of love,” Jongdae said, feeling nothing but fierce affection as Sehun smiled in return. Oh, how Jongdae loved that smile…how his eyes looked like crescent moons lighting up the dark sky, how his cheeks were sweetly flushed as if he had been sitting by a fire. Oh, how Jongdae loved Sehun. “We’re forever, you and me.”

When Jongdae finally took his wedding ring back from Sehun and slipped it onto his fourth finger, he had never felt more complete.

From where he sat on the floor, Baekhyun suddenly clapped for them.

“You two are so good together,” he smiled before lowering his head, tracing patterns into the floor.

Sehun looked at Baekhyun for a moment before pointing at him and turning back to Jongdae for an answer. Jongdae nodded encouragingly, and Sehun pressed a kiss to his cheek before he pulled out his knife.

Even after all they had suffered in lower management, Sehun had never once remembered to use the knife Baekhyun had given him. Jongdae would’ve been surprised if he did. After all, Sehun had never been one for fighting, but rather finding. He found Jongdae during that high school orientation and asked him to hum, found his students even when he was not supposed to remember, and easily found in his heart room for one more.

So naturally, the one time he used the knife now was not for fighting, no, but for love.

Sehun turned the knife upside down and gripped the sheathed blade before walking towards the ring display case. He took his time, staring at the rings before he struck the glass with the handle of the knife until it shattered. Stealing was forbidden in the society and was another thing that was not done, so no one had any alarms in stores to signal if a robbery ever occurred.

After putting away the knife, Sehun plucked out a ring, careful not to cut himself on the fragmented shards before closing it in his fist.

“Baekhyun,” Sehun said, extending his free hand towards him where he sat, “Won’t you stand for a minute?”

“For you, I guess,” Baekhyun said, taking Sehun’s hand and standing. “What’s up.”

“If you’re Jongdae’s pair, then you’re mine, too,” Sehun simply said, smiling as he opened his fist to reveal a ring.

Baekhyun eyes widened and he stared at the ring for a second before turning away, covering his mouth with a hand.

“Baekhyun?” Sehun said, his smile faltering.

Jongdae leaned against another display cabinet, smiling as he watched them.

“Is everything okay?” Sehun asked again, hand hesitantly touching Baekhyun’s shoulders.

Baekhyun turned back, unable to stop a full blown grin from bursting from his features as he leapt on Sehun and kissed his cheeks excitedly.

“What if I put that on and it doesn’t fit?” Baekhyun teased as he stood back.

“Oh,” Sehun timidly said, a small smile appearing once again on his face, “Then I’ll keep looking until one fits you.”

“You…” Baekhyun said, trailing off into silence before he kept speaking, “It’s no wonder Jongdae loves you so much.”

“So what do you say?” Sehun said, offering the ring to Baekhyun again, “Pairs?”

“Pairs,” Baekhyun smiled, taking the ring and slipping it onto his finger.

“Look at that,” Baekhyun said in awe as he admired the ring on his hand, “it fits perfectly.”

“See, you were worried for nothing,” Sehun said.

“Sehun,” Baekhyun said, dropping his hands to his side before giving him his whole attention, “If I’d kill for Jongdae, I’d kill for you, too. Whatever happens in the future, wherever we end up going, I promise that you’ll be safe with me.”

“Thank you,” Sehun smiled, and everything felt right.

But of course good things couldn’t last.

Good times couldn’t last, and Jongdae was not surprised when they were interrupted by a loud voice thundering from outside, magnified by a megaphone.

“Hello,” it calmly said. “We are doing a surprise survey on happiness. Please step outside and line up together. There is no reason to be alarmed. Everything is normal.”

“Great,” Baekhyun said, already crouching by the window and planning their escape, “There’s enforcers crawling everywhere. We’ll have to disappear in the crowd.”

“There’s enforcers ushering people out,” Sehun said, pointing across the street, “If we sneak behind the parked cars maybe we’ll make it out without them knowing. Is there an entry to the tunnels near here?”

“Let’s wait until they take all the people out. I’m sure they’ll stop looking to handle the crowd,” Jongdae said, staring out the window. A few people had already begun to line up, their hands folded properly and their smiles never out of place.

Two enforcers pulled out a metal table they unfolded while another two unfolded a screen to hide the table from the line of people.

After enough people lined up, the enforcers began to call individuals over to the concealed table for their survey.

“Let’s go,” Baekhyun said, stepping carefully over the shattered glass as he ran for the nearest car. Jongdae and Sehun followed, running as covertly as they could before they joined Baekhyun.

They started moving, crouching and creeping towards the next car to hide behind until they heard the enforcers speak. Unable to help themselves, they stopped out of curiosity and watched the enforcer interview the first person.

“Hello! I’m happy! Sit down,” the enforcer who stood near the desk said.

“Hello! I’m happy! It’s a beautiful day!” the woman said as she sat, remembering to sit up straight and to keep her smile in place.

“You took your pill today,” the enforcer said.

“Yes,” she said, “My distributor came right on time.”

“Let’s go,” Baekhyun said, turning around to creep towards the next car, Jongdae and Sehun following him closely.

“Pass,” the enforcer said after completing a longer series of statements. Jongdae glanced across the street and looked as the woman stood up and walked away while a different woman took her place.

But this time, after a series of statements, the enforcer said something else.

“Rehabilitation,” the enforcer said. Suddenly the woman was seized and thrown into one of the vans before the doors slammed shut and it drove off. Enforcement must have tightened up protocol and initiated these mass checks to ensure no abnormalities would ever happen again. Jongdae didn’t know what that would mean for the people, but they wouldn’t know or mind anyways.

“Next,” the enforcer said.

“Oh…That’s the man from the rehabilitation room we released,” Jongdae said, stopping again to look as he recognized the man who sat down on the chair, “He must’ve escaped.”

“He won’t pass for sure,” Baekhyun said, stopping as well to look.

“I remember sitting behind him when I was there,” Sehun admitted, “He was always loud, and he always refused treatment.”

Across the street, the man slouched carelessly, staring around while he waited for the enforcer to speak.

“Hello! I’m—” the enforcer started to say before the man cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah I know. You’re happy. I’m happy, too,” the man said.

The enforcer stared at the man for a moment before continuing.

“You’ve taken your pills today,” the enforcer said.

“Yes,” the man said, “Naturally. I have no reason not to.”

“Oh, this isn’t going to be pretty,” Baekhyun said, shaking his head. Every one of them knew there was no way this man could pass, but they stayed anyways, stayed longer even though they shouldn’t have to watch.

“You are happy,” the enforcer said, daring the man to correct him.

“Well of _course_ I am,” the man said, throwing his hands up, “Just look at me.”

He stuck his face right in front of the enforcer, tilting his head back and forth as he pulled the corners of his lips upwards with two fingers.

“This is not the behavior of someone who is happy,” the enforcer said.

“I don’t know what you expect,” the man said, shrugging, “I’m smiling, so I’m happy. Right?”

He quickly covered his mouth after he realized what he had said.

“Clearance,” the enforcer announced without hesitation, beckoning the enforcer beside him to do what had to be done.

Jongdae heard the shot before he realized what had happened.

He also heard Sehun let out a scream before he peeked further out of the car and saw a limp body thrown carelessly into the back of a van. There was plenty of room left for more bodies to be stacked upon each other, but they didn’t have time to see how many more there’d be.

“There they are,” an enforcer shouted after hearing Sehun scream, pointing at them as he quickly signaled for more to join him.

Around them, a chorus of people waiting in line fidgeted, but still smiled and laughed.

“Oh! It’s a beautiful day! That must be fireworks!”

“I’m happy!”

“Something good must be happening if they’re celebrating something!”

“I’m happy!”

“That must have been a scream of happiness!”

“I’m _happy_.”

There was another gunshot in the air, one probably directed at them, but the people never moved in fear, never bothered to see what was wrong because happy people minded their own business just like they were supposed to.

“We have to go,” Baekhyun muttered, pushing Sehun and Jongdae in front of him.

But the two of them were still in shock, still reeling from what they had witnessed.

“ _Go_ ,” Baekhyun urged, “Forwards…it’s the only way. We’ll die if you stay here.”

Jongdae made an attempt to move, but only stumbled forwards, falling to his knees as the pavement scraped his hands as he caught his own fall.

“ _Please_ ,” Baekhyun desperately said pulling them up and pushing them forwards, “I can’t lose you both, too.”

With that, Jongdae felt his legs move without him fully registering, picking himself up as he ran alongside the cars. The enforcers pursued and shot at the cars they ran behind. The glass shattered around them as they went, causing a scream to occasionally tear out of Jongdae’s mouth as he wondered if the next time a gun went off would be the last time one of them could ever run again. But on they went, batting away shards of glass and struggling to breathe as their pulses climbed higher into their throats and choked them.

Soon, they ran out of cars to run behind, and there was only open space with nothing to in front of them.

“An entry to the tunnels is just a bit ahead,” Baekhyun said, pointing towards the free space.

“Will we make it?” Sehun asked, inhaling sharply as bullets tore into the car they rested behind.

“When I give the signal, run,” Baekhyun said instead.

“What’s the signal?” Jongdae asked before Baekhyun leapt out of the car with a scream. Of course.

“Hey!” Baekhyun said, waving his arms to catch the enforcer’s attention before pointing behind them, “Those people are not happy! Turn around and look at their fake smiles!”

It was simple enough to distract them, and as they turned around to do their job, the three of them took off into the open space and hoped for the best.

Behind them, some of the enforcers stormed into the crowd, demanding to know which people were not happy, which people had not taken their pills for the day. Other enforcers continued their pursuit of them. Running with big, heavy guns seemed difficult for them, and it was easy for Jongdae to race ahead, far ahead and put much more distance between them. Bullets whizzed by, dotting the ground near them, but if they stopped to look back, they would be lost. So they never did.

Onwards they ran, forwards they looked, and Jongdae kept his eyes on the horizon as he silently pleaded for Baekhyun to just say that they were close, that the tunnels were right there.

“Here,” Baekhyun shouted, pointing in front of them, “Next to that tree.”

The tree marked the entrance of a nearby park, so even if they could not get to the tunnel in time, the park’s trees and fountains would offer more coverage than the open space. Baekhyun ran towards the tree and bent down by its roots where a large metal circle lay, embedded in the ground. He pulled out a small, flat rod from his pocket and jammed it into the outer ring of the circle.

“When I push down on this,” Baekhyun said, “help me lift this cover up and push it to the side.”

Jongdae nodded and waited as Baekhyun pushed down on the rod, causing the circle to lift up on one side. Jongdae caught the exposed section and waited for Sehun to help push it aside.

“Stop,” a voice said, causing Jongdae to slowly turn his head around to look, his hands still lifting the metal plate.

An enforcer, perhaps one stationed around the park, had approached, pointing his gun at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun wasn’t concerned and leapt up immediately.

“Freeze,” the enforcer said, quickly pointing his gun upwards at Baekhyun’s chest.

Behind him, Jongdae and Sehun slowly pushed the plate to the side, revealing a gaping dark hole beneath. Neither of them could leave without Baekhyun, so they watched in silence, remaining still.

“You are not happy,” the enforcer said, waiting for Baekhyun to correct him.

“Yes,” Baekhyun said with a cheerful smile, “I fucking am.”

He then dropped one hand on the gun to push it away from Jongdae’s and Sehun’s direction and moved his other hand to grasp the back before twisting it out of the enforcer’s hands. Without stopping to breathe, Baekhyun hurled himself at the enforcer, attacking him aggressively with the blunt of the gun, his fists, his feet, until the enforcer fell unconscious to the floor. This all happened in seconds.

“I’ll admit,” Baekhyun said, panting slightly, “I didn’t learn that from a book.”

Baekhyun dragged the back of his hand across his forehead before placing his hands on his hips, still trying to fully recover from what had happened. Jongdae could only stare in awe.

“Baekhyun,” Jongdae said, his voice sounding almost like a hush.

“Yes?” Baekhyun said, remembering he was holding a gun and held it up to examine it.

“You’re incredible,” Jongdae smiled.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun said, throwing away the gun as he smiled. He sat on the edge of the hole, letting his feet dangle in the darkness.

“It looks deep, but don’t worry,” Baekhyun assured them, “It’s not a far fall. You’ll be okay.”

With that, he dropped himself into the whole, his body disappearing as he fell. A loud thud suddenly echoed through the tunnels, causing Jongdae to stick his head in the hole and call out to Baekhyun.

“Are you alright?” Jongdae asked.

“Does it hurt to fall?” Sehun shouted into the hole.

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun said, “You’ll be fine, too. I’d catch you, but I don’t want you to accidentally land on me since it’s so dim here. I’ll step back a few steps, but one of you should go now.”

Jongdae cautiously sat on the edge of the circle, wondering how far he’d have to fall until he hit the ground. Before he could change his mind, he pushed himself off and fell, letting a shout as he suddenly hit the floor.

“How was it?” Baekhyun’s voice echoed somewhere to Jongdae’s right.

“Not bad,” Jongdae said, brushing off his hands as he stood up, “It would be nice if there was more lighting here though.”

There was a light up ahead the tunnel that Jongdae was sure Baekhyun had placed, but it was too far to offer any decent lighting aside from light shining in from the hole.

Moments later, Sehun fell through the hole with a yelp, scrambling upwards as he stayed in the small patch of light that the hole offered.

“We’re right here,” Jongdae said, raising out his arms. “Just step a bit to your right.”

Sehun stared at the sky one last time before hesitantly stepping away, his body disappearing the further he walked in the tunnels. Jongdae soon felt a body bumping against his, and he reached out to find Sehun’s hand, holding it so he wouldn’t be lost.

“I’ll go first,” Baekhyun said, “Let’s move towards the light. I keep a flashlight around every light I hang just in case. It’ll be easier to see once we reach there.”

Baekhyun quickly walked ahead, but Jongdae was more careful, cautiously moving his foot before slowly putting down his weight on the ground just in case there were rocks he could slip in or small holes he could fall through. Sehun trusted Jongdae to guide him and walked wherever he walked, never complaining about the dark even though it was his first time in the tunnels.

“Here,” Baekhyun said before a second light illuminated some of the tunnels. He shone the light on their path, exposing some of the moist patches of ground they could avoid now and revealing a few rocks that they easily stepped over.

“You lived here?” Sehun asked, his voice echoing slightly.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said, “It’s not as bad as you think. Aside from the darkness and the cold, I still survived. And at least I had my books.”

“Books?” Sehun asked, “Where?”

“All over these walls,” Baekhyun said, moving the flashlight away from the ground in front of them to shine on the walls. Sure enough, some of the books Baekhyun had saved had been carefully placed in the deep holes of the walls around them.

“Baekhyun,” Sehun said, reaching out to touch the spine of the nearest book, “You’re incredible.”

“You can read all of them,” Baekhyun smiled, “when there’s time of course.”

Sehun nodded, turning away from the books to follow Baekhyun deeper into the tunnels. Soon enough, they reached the circular cavern where Baekhyun used to sleep. It looked the same the last time Jongdae had visited. The blankets were still piled up in one side of the room, stacks of books were carefully arranged in another, and it was still slightly cold.

“I missed my books,” Baekhyun said, handing the flashlight to Jongdae as he rushed inside. The lights hanging from the ceiling offered enough lighting, so Jongdae turned off the flashlight and followed Baekhyun inside.

“Can I sit?” Sehun asked, pointing at the blankets.

“Sit anywhere, take anything you want,” Baekhyun said, staring at a stack of books. He plucked the third book from the top and sat down next to Sehun.

“What’s this one about?” Sehun asked, resting his head on Baekhyun’s shoulder as he looked at the title page.

“It better not be anything boring,” Jongdae said, leaning against Baekhyun’s other side.

Baekhyun turned his head towards Sehun, turned the other way to look at Jongdae before covering his face with the book. His shoulder shook, and suddenly a delighted giggle echoed through the room despite how hard he tried to suppress it.

“Oh, just wait,” he said with a smile, moving the book down and turning to the first page, “This one’s about everything you could ever dream of.”

Baekhyun read to them until they all grew tired and fell asleep together. The book lay tumbled out of Baekhyun’s grasp forgotten, but Jongdae and Sehun still curled up next to Baekhyun, arms and legs all tangled while they rested. For hours and hours, they slept, able to forget for a while the things they had seen, the things that had happened. Jongdae dreamt of orange skies and two people dancing under the rain.

When he woke up, there were no orange skies, no rain, but Jongdae didn’t mind. He still had the two most important people beside him, so everything else could wait for later.

For a whole day, they sought refuge in the tunnels, living off of the food and water they had stolen. It wasn’t bad. If Baekhyun survived here for so long, then there was no reason all of them couldn’t, too.

But of course, that was impossible now since they were still hunted, still chased, still forever attacked until the city was free of them and until they left no trace. Jongdae didn’t know who survived the lower management fire, but the enforcers had to take orders from someone, so he supposed it had to have been someone with high-ranking authority. Yixing wouldn’t have pursued them outside the building, so that either meant he was dead or someone previously thought dead was not.

Worrying about who still wanted them dead was the least of Jongdae’s worries now, as the next day, that previous peace, those few hours of sleep and rest, was disrupted. Again.

Sehun had wanted to look at the books Baekhyun had stored down the hallway, so the that next day, he grabbed a spare flash light and carefully explored the nearest tunnel for himself. He promised he wouldn’t stray too far in case he somehow got lost, but when he shouted out nearly thirty minutes later, the echoes of his voice sounded so far away.

It was a shout that made Jongdae and Baekhyun scramble up in panic, rushing towards Sehun. Jongdae wondered why the ground was suddenly wet as he splashed through water about a couple inches deep in order to race forwards until Sehun’s yelling sounded closer.

“What is it?” Jongdae shouted when Sehun was close enough, “Are you alright?”

“The water,” Sehun shouted, pointing behind him, “All this water started pouring down from one of the openings in the ceiling.”

“Water?” Jongdae said, the water beginning to uncomfortably fill his shoes.

“That’s a lot of water to waste on us,” Sehun said before nervously looking at Jongdae and Baekhyun, “You’re both small…Surely it won’t rise any higher than this, right?”

“They’re trying to flood us out,” Baekhyun shook his head, frustratedly hitting the wall with his fist, “They won’t stop until everything’s submerged completely in water. But if we climb out of any other exit to escape drowning, I’ll bet they’ve stationed enforcers everywhere to take us out as soon as we peek our heads out of the ground.”

“Then what now?” Jongdae asked, feeling the water lap at his ankles.

“There’s one exit that they won’t dare go,” Baekhyun said, shaking his hand in pain after he slid it off the wall. “The forest.”

“The forest?” Jongdae said, “But no one goes there.”

He thought of the impossibly tall trees, the green foliage that seemed to creep closer and closer every day.

“Exactly,” Baekhyun said, “That’s our only choice.”

Before Jongdae could ask which way that exit was, Baekhyun threw his hands over his mouth and ran towards the main cavern as he remembered, his yell echoing through the tunnels.

“Oh! My _books_ ,” Baekhyun shouted, running to the stacks of books in the room. He picked up a couple and shoved as many he could hold in his arms as possible. The ones that rested at the bottom of the floor were already soaked. Even if they were fished out and dried immediately, Jongdae wasn’t sure if its pages could be completely restored again.

“Oh no, my books,” Baekhyun cried out again, turning in place, causing a small wave of water to swell up.

“Baekhyun, we don’t have time,” Jongdae said, urgently tugging on his arm, “We have to get out.”

“I…lost my pair because of these books,” Baekhyun said as one book fell out of his hands and landed in the water below, “How can I just leave them?”

“There will be more books,” Jongdae said, ignoring the unpleasant way the water sloshed at the lower part of his legs, “When we get out of here, there will be time for you to build your own library again. Think of all the books outside of this place…All the books you haven’t read.”

“But this is my life’s work,” Baekhyun said as another book fell out of his hands, “What do I do now?”

“Make a new life,” Jongdae said, “Now are you coming or not?”

Baekhyun sighed and let the books tumble out of his hands and land in the water. But he still kept the white book and shoved it in his shirt.

“Let’s go,” Baekhyun said, struggling to keep his expression even, “The closest exit is this way.”

The three of them waded through the water, trying not to panic as they noticed the water slowly rise above their calves and soon reach their thighs.

“Here,” Baekhyun said at last, pointing upwards.

“You go first,” Jongdae said before gesturing at Sehun to help him push Baekhyun upwards. Baekhyun’s clothes were dripping wet and his skin damp, and Jongdae struggled to keep his grasp on Baekhyun. Nonetheless, Baekhyun still managed to push the cover of the exit up and away, exposing a circular sliver of sky and light.

Baekhyun climbed out of the hole and immediately turned back, leaning as far as he could without falling back in so he could offer his hand.

“You’re next,” Jongdae said, pushing Sehun towards the sky no matter how much he insisted it should be him last, not next.

Jongdae wrapped his arms around Sehun’s waist and held him up, waiting for Baekhyun to help pull him through. After Sehun left, Jongdae was left cold, his whole body damp from pressing himself against Sehun’s and Baekhyun’s legs.

“Jongdae!” Sehun shouted as he stuck his hand in the hole to reach out for him, “Go now!”

The water rushed at Jongdae’s waist, but he didn’t mind it in the moment. Even as Jongdae saw their hands stretched out towards him, urgently waving and gesturing for him to grab on, to hold on so they could pull him up, he closed his eyes, thinking for a moment that the water that fell from their skin and dripped off of their clothes was rain.

But it was not.

The sky was still blue, and there were no dark clouds in sight.

“Jongdae, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” Baekhyun shouted into the tunnel, causing Jongdae to open his eyes again.

Perhaps one day soon, but not today.

Jongdae caught onto their hands and let himself be pulled upwards, all of them stumbling backwards after Jongdae emerged out of the hole.

They allowed themselves one moment of rest, all of them laying on the ground with tangled limbs and soaked clothes, before they looked forwards and ran towards the only place left they could go.

The forest.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae didn’t have time to stop and take a long look at the trees around them because he was too busy running as fast and as far as he could. But from the glimpses he stole, the trees were so green, so grown. Nothing like Jongdae had ever seen before. The trees planted in city parks and around the town were carefully and meticulously trimmed. None of them had leaves that were any color other than green, none of them had any fallen branches or decaying wood. All of them looked the same, and all of them looked more fake than real compared to these forest trees that looked like they were dying even though they were so alive.

That was not a bad thing though.

The little stumps, the fallen trees, the uneven branches gave Jongdae hope. There was no way these trees were planted by upper management, no. These trees grew on their own and lived on their own terms. The forest had a certain stillness to it, a balance of suspended movement disrupted only their heavy breathing and running.

“Let’s stop,” Baekhyun said after none could run anymore. The three of them collapsed on the forest floor and heaved, gasping for the fresh air, feeling the dirt beneath their hands as they rested.

Baekhyun allowed them a moment of rest to catch their breath before he stood up and brushed himself up, trudging onwards, walking towards who even knew.

“We have to keep going,” Baekhyun said, looking behind him, “You never know if we’ll be followed.”

“But no one goes to the forest,” Sehun said, scrambling to his feet before reaching out to Jongdae.

“Shouldn’t we be safe here?” Jongdae agreed, taking Sehun’s hand and using his weight to pull himself up.

“You never know. If they sent enforcers around the town looking for us and pumped all that water into the tunnels to chase us out, then we can’t assume we’re safe anywhere,” Baekhyun shook his head, waiting for Sehun and Jongdae to catch up before they walked side by side, easily falling into place with each other.

“Maybe Yixing will stop them,” Jongdae said. He still liked to think Yixing was alive.

“He was down there when lower management was lost to flames. The glass elevator was destroyed, so there’s no way,” Baekhyun said, carefully stepping over a fallen log before helping Sehun and Jongdae over it.

“You’re right,” Jongdae said. That was impossible.

“Baekhyun’s right,” Sehun said, “We should live as if we’re being hunted so we’ll always be careful. We can’t go back now.”

“That’s no way to live at all,” Jongdae said, taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

“I’ve done it for longer than you’d know,” Baekhyun said, “It’s not fun, but it’s better than losing your mind taking the pills.”

Jongdae fell silent as he stopped in his tracks and stared around. So this was where they’d have to live for whoever knew how long. He hoped the forest would end soon, but as he looked in the distance, he still saw nothing but endless trees and perpetual green.

The three of them continued walking deeper into the forest because it was the only thing to do. Sometimes their conversations were somber, carefully worded statements and replies of their situation. Other times the three of them laughed like they hadn’t seen people dead and dying and like no one could be following him. Sometimes if they tried hard enough they could just pretend to be just three people walking together in a forest having the time of their lives.

More often than not, it was not hard for Jongdae to try anyways.

With Sehun on his left and Baekhyun on his right, he wouldn’t mind if this was his future life.

“We need to find water or we’ll die,” Baekhyun announced, stopping in his tracks, “We can survive without food longer, but without water, there’s no way.”

“How do we find water?” Sehun asked.

“I’ve read that if we find moss, we’ll find a water source nearby,” Baekhyun said.

“Some rain would be helpful at this time, right?” Jongdae said, staring at the sky. To his disappointment, it was still blue, and not a single cloud, gray or white, drifted above.

“What’s rain?” Sehun said, looking at Jongdae before mimicking his action and staring at the sky with a hand raised over his face to shield himself from the sun, “Is that another word for water?”

“Baekhyun tells me that this type of sky,” Jongdae said, spreading his hand above him, “is not normal. Rain is when the clouds grow dark and the sky pours down its tears upon the world.”

“Is that real? That’s…impossible,” Sehun said, lowering his hand to look back at Jongdae and Baekhyun, looking for a sign that either were lying.

“When we’re out of here, maybe one day things will be different, and we’ll be able to see rain,” Jongdae said. He also hoped for a pink sky tinged with the golden glow of the orange sun.

“Apparently it can rain so much that fools can take showers in it,” Baekhyun said.

“I want to dance in it,” Sehun said, looking back up at the sky.

“One day,” Baekhyun said. He kept his eyes to the ground, looking for moss or any sign of water.

Jongdae and Sehun followed Baekhyun around, not sure of what they were supposed to look for. All talk of rain vanished and disappeared. Real water they could drink right now was their main concern, and the time for dreaming about water falling down from a sky that was anything but blue would be later.

“You would be dead without me,” Baekhyun said as he continued looking, “But it’s not your fault. If they didn’t ban so many books, you would know what to do and what to look for as well.”

“Jongdae once asked me to move to the forest and live with him here away from the rest of the people,” Sehun said, examining a rock before moving on, “I think we would’ve died in a day.”

“Hey,” Jongdae said, lightly shoving Sehun as Baekhyun let out a laugh, “You never know! Maybe we would’ve gotten lucky. I would’ve done anything to keep you alive.”

“So now I have not only my own self to keep alive, but now you two,” Baekhyun said, touching the ground with his hand, examining the soil before standing up.

“You do it because you love us,” Sehun cheerfully said, doing the same before brushing his hands off.

“Yeah?” Baekhyun said, smiling as he started walking towards the right, “Yeah.”

Maybe it wasn’t the right time to laugh and skip around like everything was okay, but Jongdae did anyways. He hurried ahead, walking backwards so he could look at Baekhyun and Sehun, letting out a deep sigh as he smiled at the mere sight of them. Besides. If there was no time to love, then what was life anyways?

He continued walking backwards before he stumbled over something and felt himself fall backwards down a small ledge.

“Jongdae!” he heard Sehun and Baekhyun cry out.

Jongdae examined himself for any injuries before slowly sitting up and looking around.

“Are you alright?” Sehun asked before jumping off of the small ledge without hesitation.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Baekhyun said as he slid down the ledge and crouched next to Jongdae, “If that ledge was taller you wouldn’t be smiling.”

“I told you we’d get lucky,” Jongdae said, pointing behind him.

Baekhyun looked behind Jongdae and chuckled.

“Or, I was headed in the right direction since you two know nothing about wilderness survival,” Baekhyun said.

It was luck or skill. Maybe both. But there their water source was.

A stream.

It was shallow enough to not drown in, deep enough for small fish to swim around, so it was enough to survive on. Baekhyun insisted that it would be wise to camp along the river and follow it during the day, hoping it would take them somewhere far away from here. Somewhere where the rain fell from wispy pink skies.

Before night fell just like it always did, Baekhyun insisted on looking for food. It wouldn’t be smart to assume that the night wouldn’t fall just because they were away from the city, and out here, only the light of the moon would keep the darkness from completely smothering them.

But even before that, Baekhyun made a small fire. Jongdae didn’t know how Baekhyun could do all of this just from reading books, and he watched as Baekhyun scavenged the ground until he found flint. He crouched on the floor after gathering loose twigs and stood up, brushing his hands off as smoke started to fill the air. It was small enough to be contained, though soon grew big enough to stay warm.

“Watch the fire and keep it going, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, “Sehun and I will go look for some food that could be growing around here, and we’ll be back before it gets dark. The last thing we need is for that to get out of hand since, you know. Don’t want to die and all that.”

Jongdae took a seat on the ground and watched as Baekhyun and Sehun disappeared into the forest before turning back to the little fire to occupy himself. It was useless to worry. He had a job to do, so he’d do his job.

The fire that Baekhyun started in lower management was fueled by his rage, kept blazing because of his burning need for vengeance and all the pain he kept inside for so long. But this fire was made carefully, like one wrong move could cause it to blow up and harm the people he cared about. It was made for Jongdae and Sehun, and it was made for life. For living. Baekhyun could be gentle when he wanted, and Jongdae thought he was lucky enough to see this side of Baekhyun more often than not nowadays.

After he grew bored of tossing sticks in every now to make sure the fire would it go out, he allowed himself to stare at his watch and watch the seconds tick by instead.

At this time, 5:30, Jongdae would normally be driving home from work after a long day.

But that was then.

Now, he sat deep in a forest far from home, far from everything he knew, waiting for Sehun and Baekhyun to come back.

Normally, the night fell at 6:00.

By 5:45, neither of them was in sight, and Jongdae tried not to worry.

At 5:50, Jongdae tried to distract himself by looking at the sky and searching for any signs that the sun would plummet out of the horizon for the day, yawning as it would breathe out streaks of red and orange like it was supposed to. After a few minutes of watching expectantly waiting for something to happen, Jongdae still supposed they were much too close to their old city for any change to occur.

At 5:55, he gave up suppressing his worry and panicked. If it grew dark, it would be impossible for them to find him again if they were too far away. He couldn’t do this alone if they never came back. He wouldn’t do this alone. Alone was no way to live for him, especially when he could have Sehun and Baekhyun with him.

A minute away from 6:00, Jongdae breathed in relief as he saw Sehun and Baekhyun in the distance heading back. They waved as soon as they saw him, and Jongdae could have just slumped down on the ground right there after all that energy spent thinking about them.

But night fell at 6:00, and his view of Sehun and Baekhyun was soon lost to the dark. Jongdae let out a shout, and for one terrifying moment, there was only silence, and he felt suffocated by the black abyss.

“It’s okay. We see the fire. We’re coming to you,” Sehun called out at last, sounding nearer.

“We’re not useless, Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, “We won’t lose you.”

It was easy for them to just say that, and Jongdae only relaxed when their figures and faces were finally illuminated by the firelight.

“So,” Sehun said after taking a seat by fire, Baekhyun joining him, “What now?”

Sehun and Baekhyun passed around some berries they had found. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

“There has to be something out there,” Jongdae said, “More than this. Yixing said that there was a government that sponsored this project.” He paused to think again of _this project_. They were a just someone’s experiment. Dopamine donors. Just a project.

“That must mean they govern a city, right? Maybe we can go there?” Jongdae continued after a pause.

“Go towards the people that funded this?” Baekhyun said, “We didn’t escape just to be put back there by them.”

“Then we could just stay in the forest,” Sehun offered, spreading his hands over the fire, his ring glinting in the light.

“We could die here easily, and you want to stay?” Baekhyun said, edging closer to the fire for warmth as the flickering flames cast a glow on his face.

“It’s peaceful here. Just you two and me. No pills. No people. Nothing else to worry about. Just us,” Sehun said.

“We should at least keep moving,” Baekhyun said after a pause, “We still don’t know if they sent people to follow us or not.”

The current conversation died down, morphing to talk about regular things. Jokes that made each other laugh. Stories and memories of times Baekhyun missed. Stories and memories of times Sehun missed. The prospect of future memories spent together. Just three people talking together and living on love.

“This was the only book I saved,” Baekhyun said as the night passed on, pulling out the white book from out of his shirt.

“There will be more books in the future,” Jongdae said, “Don’t worry.”

“What book is it?” Sehun asked, tilting his head to look at the cover before giving up after noticing it was blank.

“Emotions,” Baekhyun said, raising the book in the air, “Every one that we missed because we were too busy thinking there was only happiness.”

“Can I see please?” Sehun suddenly asked, his eyes widening.

“Of course,” Baekhyun said, passing it over to Sehun who picked it up eagerly and flipped through the pages before turning to page one.

“Happiness?” Sehun asked, his tone dropping as he read out the first entry.

“Just read,” Baekhyun said, waving his disappointment off, “You’ll see.”

“Happiness is,” Sehun began to read out loud before amusement crept into his voice, “an important emotion, but not the most important. You already know what this is, so turn the page.”

He turned the page eagerly before lowering the book for a moment, a smile spreading quickly across his lips.

“Oh,” Sehun said, almost giddy, “I don’t know the next one. There’s really more than just happiness, isn’t there?”

“Well what did you think you were feeling when you were off the pills?” Baekhyun said, leaning forwards as he waited for Sehun to continue reading, “It’s impossible to be happy all the time.”

“This is…anticipation,” Sehun said, concentrating on the words in front of him, “Anticipation is waiting for something you know will happen. It’s a racing heart, looking ahead of you with wide eyes, and struggling to stay still or be still until what you know will happen happens.”

Jongdae could see the same disbelief, the same furrowed brows, the same smile written all over Sehun that he recognized in himself when he first read the book. Sehun continued reading definitions, pausing in between to consider them, to memorize them and add to his list of words he could use to finally describe more than just happiness. But Jongdae still lingered on anticipation, thinking of orange skies and tears falling from the sky. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait to see it, but he knew. Oh, he knew he’d see everything one day.

After Sehun grew tired and closed the book for the night, he stretched and announced he would sleep now. At night it was cold even if they stayed near the dying fire, and Sehun immediately clung to Jongdae, pressing his face to the crook of Jongdae’s neck before the both of them opened their arms. There was another place.

Baekhyun stared at them, his gaze lingering on the way they held each other so comfortably. Perhaps he was suddenly reminded of his old pair now, though if such memories bothered him, he never showed it. And now, without any hesitation, he joined them, pressing his body to theirs, tangling their limbs together and huddling for warmth and comfort.

Jongdae closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but after a few minutes, Sehun spoke.

“Hey, Jongdae. Baekhyun,” Sehun said, “Are you still awake?”

“Yes,” Jongdae said.

“Well since your voice is so loud,” Baekhyun said.

“Do you think we’re the only living things out here?” Sehun said, “Do you think there are other animals? Aside from the fish? Are we the only humans? Is it safe out here?”

There was a silence before Baekhyun spoke, mumbling against someone’s chest.

“Why did you bring this up now?” he protested, “Now I have to worry if some animal human hybrid is going to eat us all while we sleep.”

“We’ve been out here and haven’t seen or heard anything. Maybe it’s just us,” Jongdae said, blinking and staring into the dark above him, “And the fish.”

“I’ll catch some fish so we can roast them by the fire,” Baekhyun said, “It would be a shame if we only had berries to eat.”

“You’ll scare away all the fish if you try,” Jongdae said before shutting his eyes and trying to sleep with a smile.

Baekhyun let out a quiet _hmph_ and settled down.

“Hey guys,” Baekhyun spoke a little tentatively after a while. Jongdae opened his eyes again.

“Are you awake?” he said before a giggle burst from his lips. The night was a little less dark now.

“Since your voice is so loud,” Sehun said before he laughed, too.

Jongdae felt the vibrations of their laughter and could not help but laugh as well. For a minute they calmed down before they laughed again.

“What did you want to say?” Jongdae asked after they had finally calmed down.

“It’s nothing,” Baekhyun said.

“It must be important if you tried to wake us up for it,” Sehun said.

“If I was stranded out in a forest with death lurking around at any turn,” Baekhyun said, “I’m glad it was with you two.”

Sehun and Jongdae echoed the sentiment and finally all three of them closed their eyes, dreaming of red skies and real rain. It was easy to forget the cold when they were together like this.

Three bodies.

Three hearts.

All love.

 

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae didn’t check the time when they woke up, but there was no way it was 7:00.

It was odd, not going to work. Work was reflexive, a thing he always did no matter what. It was odder, waking up in a forest far away from the comfort of his bed. But it was the most natural thing of all, realizing that home was wherever the two people he woke up next to were.

After all of them were awake, they decided that the least they could do was walk further up the stream and go as far as they physically could until it was time to start over again, to find food, to make a fire before night fell. While they walked, Sehun read out loud from Baekhyun’s book, speaking of new emotions like rage. And when he grew tired of speaking, Jongdae and Baekhyun would fill the silence, singing songs together as their voices echoed high above the trees.

For a few days, this became their routine. Jongdae still checked his watch, but their schedule was so different now.

Wake up. Walk until they grew tired. Stop for the day. Make a fire. Eat. Go to sleep.

It was almost the same, but not.

A new routine, but not.

A new life, at least.

Some days they didn’t even go. Sometimes it was easier to stay in one place because they already had the bare minimum of what they needed. It was easier to stoke the flames and keep a fire going than to start one all over again after all.

Eventually, Jongdae stopped checking his watch so much because the only times they needed were night’s fall and day’s rise.

Nothing they did corresponded on the hour or the half hour or the quarter hour anymore. Whatever they did was not based on a need to go to wake up for work, to get ready for work, to work, and to go home from work. Now, they did things for themselves and lived for themselves. Jongdae no longer checked the time to make sure he still had time to go to work, but rather checked it around 5:45, 5:50, 5:55, 6:00. During these times, he searched the sky for any signs of new colors and stretched out his hand to see if there was a chance it would rain even though the sparse clouds above were anything but gray.

There was nothing yet, and Jongdae promised himself he would not lose hope despite the seeing the same blue sky and same striking sun.

It was terrifyingly refreshing, the way Jongdae didn’t have to restrict his life to exact numbers and strict schedules. It was horribly freeing, the way Jongdae was not restricted by that small city and same buildings, able to go wherever the stream lead them.  
But one day they had gotten too lax.

Of course.

Just when they thought that they could live like this with the biggest concern being not dying of hunger or the cold at night.

Of course this.

On that day, Jongdae tended to their fire while Sehun and Baekhyun collected more firewood and food. After a while, Jongdae decided to take a break and settle down near a large a log a few feet away. The ground was as soft as it looked, and Jongdae took a deep breath, gazing around the trees.

Everything was so green, but it was not the color he wanted to see.

Black was also not a color he wanted either.

But he had no choice, as when he turned around, he saw people dressed in black and guns coated in black.

Enforcers.

Of course them.

After everything Jongdae had seen and done, of course they would still be hunted even when they left the city.

Jongdae quickly crouched behind the log, hoping that he had not been seen and hoping that Sehun and Baekhyun would not come back yet. Peeking out as far as he dared, Jongdae watched one enforcer stare at the fire before stamping it out.

“They must be close if the fire’s like this,” one of them said, making vague hand gestures and signaling for them to gather together.

Jongdae’s heart pounded as he sat back down, pressing his back to the wood. For a while, he listened as the enforcers rustled around. Some wanted to head further into the woods since they believed they had been too noisy and surely their presence would have already been known. Others wanted to wait here since it was easier.

After silence fell, Jongdae slowly peeked out of the log, still finding the enforcers gathered around where the fire previously was. But finally, about ten meters away, Jongdae found Baekhyun and Sehun crouched behind a large tree, hiding as quietly as they could.

Jongdae stared at them until they looked back, looking relieved to see him. Baekhyun flashed him a thumbs up. This wasn’t the worst that they’d been through. Jongdae wanted nothing more than to run across the forest and be with them, but it was too dangerous. One step, one twig accidentally broken, and it would all be over. So he breathed by himself, trying to control his nerves all by himself.

To be honest, there was a part of him that worried more for the enforcers than himself because he knew what Baekhyun was capable of now, and he always found a way out no matter what it cost.

The enforcers had been working under the orders of their superiors, but here they looked like hunting wolves ready to attack their prey. But what were they supposed to do out here if there was nothing to enforce? Their place was back at the city, maintaining pill consumption and maintaining order when people weren’t happy. So surely it would have been easier to leave them alone in the forest, right?

Jongdae observed them because there was nothing else to do besides breathing and hiding, and noticed one enforcer who seemed to give all the commands and hand signals that the others had no choice but to obey. He supposed every group of people had their own sort of management.

But he grew bored after no danger came and the enforcers lowered their guns as they, too, couldn’t find who they came here for.

So at 5:45 Jongdae stared at the sky and hoped to see any streaks of red.

At 5:50 he gave up and admitted to himself that they were still not far enough from the city to see any sunsets.

At 5:55 he looked at Baekhyun and Sehun, memorizing their location. They stared back, curious, but Jongdae only pointed at himself and then at them. That was vague, but hopefully they knew what he wanted to do.

At 6:00 the sky darkened immediately, and Jongdae kept the image of Sehun and Baekhyun in his mind as he started to move, using the cover of darkness to his advantage. He kept his arms stretched out in front of him as he walked to feel out any tree he should avoid, keeping in mind and remembering how long the distance seemed. He held his breath, thinking that even the slightest noise would give him away.

Somewhere along the way he accidentally stepped on a twig that snapped easily and loudly. He swiftly continued walking, but fought down a scream from his mouth when he heard a gun go off.

“I heard someone,” an enforcer said.

“Don’t shoot like that again,” another voice ordered, “It’s dark. You might shoot one of us instead of them.”

“We can’t be out in the dark like this,” another voice said, “We should’ve gone back.”

“These are our orders,” another voice said, “We cannot just ignore them. This is our work.”

“Still,” the first voice said, “We have to do something. There’s something out there. It might be the missing people.”

“Let’s just call it a day,” someone finally announced. Jongdae continued walking through the darkness, hands out and hoping to touch two people that were not enforcers. “We’ll continue looking for them tomorrow. We can’t even see anything. Surely someone brought a lighter.”

Within seconds, someone pulled out a lighter and clicked it on. The flame was about ten meters away from Jongdae’s right, and he took another breath as he continued walking. He stopped in his tracks and tried to figure and picture the last image he had. If the enforcers were that far away, then that meant that—

But before he could even think about what was next, he felt hands touch him, pat him before grabbing him. They were too soft to be enforcers’ hands, too relieved and too weak to be enforcers’ hands. Too desperate to be hands that did not understand what it was like to lose a love and to love someone lost.

“It’s you,” Jongdae whispered as softly as he could, for some reason not bothering to phrase what he wanted to say as a question. Perhaps the presence of the enforcers intimidated him. One wrong move and they would be sent back.

“Of course they came,” Baekhyun whispered as hands continued to hold Jongdae. It was too dark to be able to tell exactly whose were whose, but Jongdae could guess. The ones that found his hands were Sehun, and he played with Jongdae’s fingers lingering a while on Jongdae’s ring. The one that grabbed the crook of Jongdae’s arm and swung it lightly, impatiently was Baekhyun’s.

“We don’t have a choice,” Jongdae said, “We’ll have to keep going even though it’s dark.”

“You’re right. This is our best chance to put some distance between us and them,” Sehun agreed.

It was risky, but they held each other’s hands and hoped that no one tripped over anything as they slowly waded through their darkness. Soon the time to sleep came and went, but their fear and pounding hearts still kept them awake. Jongdae tapped his foot slowly, making sure there were no rocks or stumps they could trip over. If there were a large log, he’d slowly feel his way up and over it before helping the others.

Only when day broke from the sky could they see the weariness that they all felt etched deep into their expressions and stained on their skin. If they thought they were free before, they knew better now. It had been too soon to celebrate, to live without concern.

That day was the day they walked until it was dark again, stopping only to eat and to scoop the water out of the stream with their hands to drink. Gone were the times they could joke now. There was only one focus. Survive. Baekhyun bore the brunt of the stress, seizing the burden of making sure everyone stayed alive all by himself. It occasionally showed on his expression and his behavior, as the words he spoke were biting, and the light he usually radiated was darker.

Sehun kept quiet.

Jongdae kept going.

When they finally gave in to their exhaustion, they found a large log that they could lay behind and fell asleep, hoping that the next time they would wake up would not be with guns waving in their faces, not in an underground facility strapped to a white chair while white lights blinded them. And that it would not be the last time they opened their eyes.

They tried having lookouts, assigning one person to stay awake and look backwards to spot any enforcers and wake the others before it was too late. But that would mean they were tired at different intervals and could not move efficiently all together when they needed to. So they just took a chance and slept at the same time, hoping they were lucky enough to avoid the enforcers then.

Enforcers soon became not the only problem that they had to deal with.

The wind, which was nonexistent before, suddenly began blowing at times they couldn’t even predict. One day it was there, the other not. Sometimes it ranged from a gentle breeze to a strong gust that had them huddling behind a tree to shield themselves.

As they made their way deeper into the forest, the stream was beginning to thin off as well. If their water supply were finite, then that would mean where they could travel to was limited as well. They didn’t know how long they were supposed to continue traveling to until they reached the end, but they hoped it would be soon.

Soon.

Despite this, Jongdae still remembered to check his watch before night fell.

At 5:45 he would stare at the sky as they rested for the day. Both Baekhyun and Sehun would have their gazes turned some other way, but Jongdae kept his eyes on the horizon as close to the sun as close as possible even though it hurt to look. He liked to think the longer he stared, the more he dared the sun to just reveal its true self, to weep its own trails of golden color and red streaks across the sky.

At 5:50 he still had hope that today was going to be the day that they would realize they were finally far enough from the city, the day that the sun finally took pity on them, their aching bodies, and everything they had ever been through to give them a red sky, the day that they would finally be free.

At 5:55 Jongdae still looked at the sun, but by this time, Baekhyun and Sehun had realized what he was doing and had tilted their heads upwards, too. For five long, silent minutes, the three of them continued to look and hope.

Jongdae didn’t know when they all stopped looking after it hit 6:00 until they circled around the fire as the dark fell.

Sehun pulled out the white book, flipped to where they had last stopped and moved closer to the light of the fire so he could read.

“Pride,” he read clearly, “is what you feel when you are pleased with what you’ve done and who you are. It’s standing tall with your shoulders back, your head raised high, and not letting anything degrade your worth. Pride is not exclusive to the self and can be felt for anyone.”

“I’m proud of you,” Baekhyun said, practicing the new vocabulary. He pointed at Sehun and Jongdae.

“I’m proud of _you_ ,” Sehun giggled, holding the book with one hand so he could point at Baekhyun and then Jongdae.

“No, no, I’m proud of _you_ ,” Jongdae grinned, pointing at Baekhyun and Sehun before they all fell quiet and their hands returned to their laps.

“We’ve come a long way haven’t we,” Baekhyun said, resting his head in his propped up hands. “I’m proud of us…for everything we’ve survived.”

“How much more longer do you think we’ll have?” Jongdae asked.

“Who knows,” Sehun said, picking up a leaf from the ground and tossing it into the flames. “As long as we have food and water and each other and as long as the enforcers stay away, we’ll be fine.”

“What will we read if we finish this book before we end our journey?” Sehun soon said, closing the book quickly to save the future entries for later.

“We’ll make our own books,” Jongdae said, clapping his hands together, “We’ll just say our stories out loud. And when we’re finally far enough from here, we’ll right down those stories and put them in Baekhyun’s library.”

“A whole library,” Baekhyun wistfully sighed.

“One day,” Jongdae promised.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

One other day, there was fire.

Smoke didn’t wake them on this day, but rather hands that grabbed them, shook them awake and a voice that told them to run, just _run_.

Jongdae woke with a start, and for a second, he thought he was still dreaming because the sky behind him was lit with red and gold. He didn’t have time to think what that implicated because when he when he turned around to see who was busy waking up Sehun and Baekhyun, he thought he surely must still be asleep.

“Yixing?” Jongdae said, standing up quickly, still groggy from sleep.

“Hello, Jongdae,” Yixing said with a smile, looking up at him. He looked the same, still wore the neatly ironed white clothes he wore every day. Jongdae’s clothes were stained from the dirt he slept on and trudged through, so he couldn’t understand how there was not even a single stain or smudge on Yixing’s clothes.

As soon as Baekhyun stirred, he crawled back with a jolt, eyes wild, hands clawing at the ground until he pulled himself up.

“I thought you died in the fire,” Baekhyun said, backing up even now, “Full offense.”

“You’ll die in a real fire if you don’t listen to me and run,” Yixing said, shaking Sehun’s shoulders even now.

“He doesn’t get up easily,” Jongdae said, pushing Yixing’s hand out of the way as he quietly whispered Sehun’s name and rubbed his back to wake up.

“They sent the enforcers back to start a fire that will burn you out of the woods,” Yixing said. Jongdae looked up and finally realized the colors were just fire tearing apart the night sky. “They really won’t let you escape. Not without dying first at least.”

“Lovely,” Baekhyun said, pulling out a knife and taking a step closer to him. By now, Sehun had already sat up, and instead of looking alarmed at the sight of Yixing like Baekhyun, he simply blinked curiously as he rested his head in the crook of Jongdae’s shoulder, trying to stay awake.

“Can I have five more minutes?” Sehun said. Jongdae could just tell Sehun’s eyes drooped again, so he gently shook him awake.

“Hey…hey,” Baekhyun loudly said from where he was, “wrong time for that, Sehun…we’ve got a problem here and you want to go back to sleep?”

“If you’re really going to count me as a problem, then at least think about the fire behind you,” Yixing said, gesturing emphatically behind them.

“Did that spread from the lower management fire?” Baekhyun said, lowering his knife.

“I bet you wish it did,” Yixing said, “but I’m still here, right?”

Baekhyun stared long and hard at Yixing, trying to decide if he was an illusion or not.

“It could be a trick,” Baekhyun said at last, “If you can engineer the sky to be always blue, you could’ve done this, too.”

“I think,” Yixing said, “that the wisest option for you is to run. You can debate whether or not the fire is real or not later, but I suggest you start moving now. You can’t outrun fire if it’s too close, and I’m sure you didn’t make all that effort to just die.”

None of them trusted Yixing, Baekhyun trusting him the least, but still. It was better to be safe than dead, so with a final scowl, Baekhyun put away his knife.

“Up you go,” Baekhyun said, helping Sehun up, “Let’s not die today.”

They had no choice because they had no time. Jongdae swore he could smell the smoke and hear the fire crackling against the wood as they ran, but other times maybe he thought that was what fear smelled like and what panic tasted like in his mouth.

Sometimes he stole hurried glances behind him to stare at the fire-streaked sky, pretending for a second that this was what a real sky looked like around dawn and dusk. He hoped when it was finally time for him to see a real sky, he would be running towards it, never away.

They were used to running, always running as far as they could so nothing could catch them, but Yixing wasn’t was. Eventually he made them stop as he flung himself to the ground to catch his breath.

“This isn’t…right,” Yixing said between grasps. He checked behind him in panic and tore up the ground with his fists. “You can’t live like this, and you can’t die like this. You already escaped, so I don’t know why they didn’t just let you go. I don’t know why you have to die to be free.”

Jongdae took a moment to catch his breath. They were safe for now, and the trees in their immediate vicinity behind them did not glow with flames. But the sky behind them was still tinged with burning blood, so they could not be too safe.

“I’m pretty sure this would’ve meant more if you said this downstairs in lower management when we were about to get our heads split open,” Baekhyun said, remaining standing as he looked down upon Yixing.

“I couldn’t do much inside,” Yixing said, his fingers remaining burrowed under the ground, “But out here at least I could warn you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell them to stop?” Sehun said, “So no one else had to die?”

“I can’t,” Yixing said, hanging his head, keeping his eyes to the ground, “I’m only upper management. Lower management handles enforcement and everything else that is not distribution. Upper management focuses on maintaining what we have. Lower management corrects anything that needs to be fixed.”

“So your pair controls you?” Jongdae asked. Surely she was dead at least.

“He probably lets her,” Baekhyun shook his head”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Yixing raised his voice before realizing what he did and quieted down, “We both have jobs to do. Lower management didn’t always have this much power.”

“That’s your problem now,” Jongdae said, so glad he wouldn’t have to go to work anymore and see all the other people from upper management and live knowing that lower management was beneath them. “Upper management is like that because you weren’t strong enough to maintain what it should have been.”

Yixing shook his head and sighed. He looked at the sky in front of them before scrambling to his feet and faced nowhere so the fire was on his right and the blank sky on his left.

“Look,” Yixing said, “You know where to go from here. Follow the stream north. You’ll know when you’re free.”

“How?” Sehun asked.

“You’ll just know,” Yixing said.

“Well that’s helpful,” Baekhyun said in a cheery voice.

Yixing gave him a look before raising his hand to the sky.

“When you see this,” he said, pointing at the sky behind them that was streaked with flames, “look softer…like someone took a paintbrush and painted the warm colors across the clouds instead of tearing holes into the sky and bleeding colors like this fire…That’s when you know.”

“We’ll look for the sunsets. Sunrises,” Jongdae said, suddenly excited. So they could really see everything for themselves one day.

“Okay, let’s go,” Sehun said, excited by Jongdae’s smiles. He looped his arm through Baekhyun’s and smiled when Baekhyun clutched at Sehun with his other hand. Baekhyun didn’t say anything, didn’t express his enthusiasm, but Jongdae could see something shimmering on his countenance…like tentative hope. Hope so fragile because it had been smashed to bits so many times. A hope that was beaten but never broken.

Jongdae watched them for a moment, his hope, his love searing through his chest. There were sunsets and sunrises painted on Jongdae’s cheeks using the flush of excitement and the glow of love. And there was rain in Jongdae’s heart falling to the rhythm of his pulse.

No matter how hard he tried, Jongdae could not stop the uncontrollable laughter from bubbling up in his chest nor could he stop himself from grinning so wildly. Without another moment’s hesitation, he pressed kisses to Baekhyun’s and Sehun’s cheeks, wrapping arms around anywhere he could reach, spreading his affection everywhere.

As long as they kept running, one day they would reach where they wanted to go, free at last. As long as they didn’t waste away and die in the forest, Jongdae wouldn’t mind how long it took.

Jongdae turned back to look for a moment, saw Yixing standing with his hands in his pocket, back straight, never a button out of place. He stared at them with a smile. It was not the same one he always smiled.

“Can’t you come?” Jongdae said to him.

“I’m not going with you,” Yixing said, shaking his head once, “I still have to run management.”

Somehow Jongdae knew.

“Is there anything left to run?” Jongdae asked, thinking of the first fire.

“You wouldn’t notice a difference if you came back,” Yixing said, and he must have looked at some expression that crossed Baekhyun’s face because he continued with a shrug, “Sorry, but that’s the reality of this place. Just because you did something and found everything does not mean anything’s changed for anyone else.”

“So you’re saying I should’ve just burnt the whole building down. Not just lower management,” Baekhyun said.

“We live harder than you know,” Yixing said. Even now there were no scars on his face, no burns, not even a single scratch.

“You can’t go back to the flames. Think of the life you could lead if you come with us. A life without pills…without all of this,” Jongdae said, not knowing why he tried so hard.

“Can’t,” Yixing said before amending his reply, “Won’t.”

“Why not?” Jongdae asked.

“My pair,” Yixing said, “She’s still there.”

“So you’re saying that fire I started did nothing,” Baekhyun said. But gone was his previous rage, all the pain he had when he started it. There was only a calm stillness now.

“You’ve done enough, but you truly underestimate her,” Yixing said, “She’s the best after all.”

“The best at killing. Inflicting pain,” Baekhyun said, not feeling the need to raise his voice.

“I can’t defend her actions, but you can’t expect me to leave her,” Yixing said, kicking at the ground with his foot.

“You’re already here,” Jongdae tried one last time, “What’s a little more distance? You really just came here just to go back? To all of that?”

“If you refused to give up on Jongdae no matter how much we tried to make you hate him,” Yixing said, pointing at Sehun before turning to point at Baekhyun, “if you refused to give up on your pair, your first one, no matter how many years passed from the time he died to when you finally claimed vengeance for him…”

“And you, Jongdae,” Yixing said, turning to him at last, “if you refused to give up on Sehun no matter how hard we tried to make you forget, no matter who else we gave you as a substitute, no matter how much everyone else denied you him…then you’ll understand how I, too, cannot and will not give up on my own. There will be a day for change. It won’t be anytime soon, but on the day it happens, I’ll be at her side for it.”

“So this is it,” Jongdae said at last. He felt nothing.

“Please believe me when I say I hope we never meet again anywhere near here,” Yixing said, taking his hands out of his pockets, “It’s for the best.”

“Take care of yourself,” Jongdae said, not knowing what else he could say now.

“And one more thing?” Yixing said.

“Yes?” Jongdae said.

“Have a good one,” Yixing smiled genuinely, his dimples showing, before turning and running back into the flames.

The three of them stood, watching Yixing until he disappeared and until the only things moving in the distance were the colors waving back and forth in the sky, consuming all the trees in the distance. It seemed impossible to survive all of that, but they supposed Yixing had a way. He always did.

There wasn’t anything else to do, so off they ran again as far and as long as they could.

The fires still seemed distant, but they couldn’t be too safe. It was too dangerous to feel safe, and Jongdae understood what Baekhyun must have felt all those years he hid alone. Danger saved. Complacency killed.

Every day afterwards Jongdae would check the sky for any signs of soft pink. A hint of orange. Maybe some red. But there was nothing. He would then reach out his hand to see if rain would magically fall. Nothing.

They had been running so long that maybe it would be easier to stop. But the fire was behind them, so the only way to go was forwards. Jongdae ran for Baekhyun and Sehun, but now he ran for himself, too. He ran to see a sunrise and a sunset and to feel rain on his skin. He ran for the hope that he would be able to live not in a forest for the rest of his life, but in a normal place and have the rest of his life to spend with Sehun and Baekhyun. There was more to life than happiness, and he wanted to feel everything, see more people who lived with all of the emotions he missed out on. Maybe there would be pain. Violence. Maybe so much more.

And Jongdae wanted to see it all for himself.

He wasn’t the only one, too, and oftentimes they would joke together and speak of the maybes.

“Maybe today will be the day the orange sky would cry and pour their tears on the world for us to dance in,” Sehun would say one day, covering his eyes from the harsh sun and the blue sky with the white book.

“Maybe today will be the day we can wake up to a beautiful sky that’s any color but blue. Hell, I bet we wouldn’t even mind a purple sky,” Baekhyun said another day.

Maybe tonight would be the night Jongdae would look at his watch and watch as the sun dipped from the sky and bled its colors from 5:45 to 5:50 to 5:55 until it disappeared completely at 6:00.

But those days never came, and it was exhausting to keep seeing the same things with no promise of when they’d ever change.

All they could do was just keep going.

All this time, they had put one foot in front of the other, stealing glances backwards but never straying from where they wanted to go. Forwards. Always forwards. Forwards seemed like forever, but Jongdae knew that one day they would finally take one step. And another step. And finally reach the end.

The end wasn’t on a day that they remembered to hope.

The end wasn’t on a day that they remembered to even be happy.

The end was just a day, any other day except that it was not.

“We’re at the last entry of the book,” Sehun said, holding the book closer to the light of the torch they carried as they walked through the night.

“What is it?” Baekhyun said even though surely he must have known from all the times he read and reread and reread the book.

“An emotion that is neither extreme happiness nor extreme unhappiness. It does not dwell on the intense scale of emotions, but is something one feels when there is nothing more to be desired. Everything is as ease. Everyone can rest easy. So rest easy,” Sehun read out loud before he closed the book. “That’s how it ends.”

Jongdae reflected in silence. The sky was already lighter, so it was not that hard to see anymore. Still, there were so many clouds in the sky today that he couldn’t see the blue.

This emotion sounded like everything he had ever wanted. Happiness wasn’t necessary all the time. There were still other good emotions to be felt like…

Love.

Delight.

And this one that Sehun just read.

“I guess we’ll just have to start from the beginning since that’s our only…” Baekhyun said before the three of them stumbled upon the end of the path.

Baekhyun waved the torch around them even though it was getting easier to see without it. They were standing on the edge of a cliff, not too tall that they would die if they fell off, but not too short that they could just jump off.

Jongdae forgot about the emotion Sehun had just read when he looked at the sights below the cliff. For a moment, no one said anything because it would hurt too much to say it out loud. There was a city down below, one that looked eerily similar to their old city with white buildings and the same types of cars parked on the streets.

For a second, Jongdae thought that maybe they had just walked in an entire circle. Maybe it was all for nothing.

But then the clouds, clouds that were tinged with a bit of darkness that Jongdae didn’t notice until now drifted across the horizon and parted to reveal a softer sky. A sky that Jongdae had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t dreaming because it was a sky that looked as if someone took a paintbrush and painted warm colors across it.

That’s when Jongdae knew, and that’s exactly when he felt the emotion that Sehun had read earlier.

Contentment.

There was a certain swell in his chest that made him feel so full, and he did not leap up and down in excitement, did not let out a scream of a triumph, a yell of every emotion he knew. But he just sighed.

And as if nothing could get any better, it was 5:39 when Jongdae felt it dancing on his skin, mingling with the tears on his cheeks, lifting up the corners of his lips in a genuinely real, dazzling smile.

Rain.


End file.
